


The Rise of the Emerald Archer

by ArlyssTolero



Series: Arrow: Rebirth [1]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012), Supergirl (TV 2015), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Butterfly Effect, F/M, No Olicity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:08:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 61
Words: 262,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23581360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArlyssTolero/pseuds/ArlyssTolero
Summary: Oliver Queen has been granted a second chance at life by Mar-Novu/The Monitor for his service leading up to the Crisis on Infinite Earths and for his sacrifice in the defense of Earth-38's fleeing citizens. Awakening in the hospital the night he returned to Starling City, Oliver begins making plans to become the hero that his city both needs and deserves in the coming years, but soon finds out that even the smallest of changes can have the most devastating of consequences for one unused to changing the timeline.As the timeline spins further and further out of control, Oliver is forced to abandon his long-term plans and do what he does best: face the uncertainty of the future with his grit and his bow.Volume I of "Arrow: Rebirth"
Relationships: John Diggle & Oliver Queen & Felicity Smoak, Laurel Lance & Oliver Queen & Thea Queen, Laurel Lance/Oliver Queen, Malcolm Merlyn & Oliver Queen, Moira Queen & Oliver Queen & Thea Queen, Sara Lance & Oliver Queen, Tommy Merlyn & Oliver Queen
Series: Arrow: Rebirth [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1770265
Comments: 569
Kudos: 206
Collections: DC Worldbuilding





	1. Preface

_Arrow_ is at its end, and I find myself looking back on the series as a whole and thinking of how much story potential there is that was squandered because this show had the unfortunate luck to air on a channel that puts more energy into ‘shipping’ than into ‘story’. A part of me sort of wants to do a full rewrite, but that’s quite an ambitious project and I would rather start somewhat smaller. I’ve always wanted to do a story where Oliver has the chance to change things for the better and have it be a different sort of time travel fix-it fic. That is still my intent going forward, and I hope everyone will enjoy what I bring to the table, both in what you’ve somewhat seen before, and in what you’ve not seen.

One thing I want to be absolutely clear on: everything from _Arrow_ and its varying spin-offs is canon up until Oliver is mauled by those Shadow Demon things and dies. Everything after that, I’m cherry-picking what I use. For example, the whole resurrection thing won’t be involved due to reasons that should be obvious once you’ve read Chapter 1. The story has been edited to accommodate for revelations from the first seven episodes of _Arrow_ and the first three episodes of _Crisis on Infinite Earths_.

With regards to whether or not the Felicity from the end of Season 7’s flash forwards will show up: the short answer is that yes, she will. Regardless of whether I want to or not, I can’t ignore that particular aspect of the end of Felicity’s storyline, and I will be incorporating that into the story. Like Oliver, she will be arriving in her younger body.

That being said, as far as pairings go, the endgame for this project is Oliver/Laurel. Whining and complaining will not change this fact. Nor will anonymous assholes who are all about praising Laurel and trashing other characters. I refuse to let what may very well be a single troll in some basement ruin my enjoyment of writing this pairing. And yes, I enjoy writing it. There’s something to it that speaks to me that doesn’t really happen with other pairings, though I can do Oliver/Sara if needed because I love Sara and Laurel equally. Yes, it’s possible to love both the Lance sisters. 

I am a firm believer in the school of thought that intelligent heroes versus cunning villains makes for greater drama than dumb heroes making huge mistakes that villains somehow capitalize on, which is the school of thought that Marc Guggenheim is a student of. As a result, expect the characters in this story to be portrayed somewhat differently than they are in canon. In short, they will act like intelligent adults rather than adolescents as the channel the shows air on dictate they act like. If this is not your cup of tea, than please make use of that nifty feature all browser windows come equipped with known as ‘the back button’. 

Anonymous commenting has been disabled due to people abusing the gift of anonymity. 

Finally, the first _eighteen_ chapters of the story are already written. I had previously posted _five_ of these chapters on AO3 if I recall right. I will be doing _daily_ updates until the story is caught up on both AO3 and FFN. 


	2. Reborn

Oliver Queen barely remembered dying. Those last few moments in the bunker, with his daughter staring down at him through tear-filled eyes, had seemed to him to be as though he were watching them from another’s eyes. He hadn’t even felt himself slip away. Or had he died at all? His eyes were heavy, but he could feel the bed beneath him, hear the hum of an air conditioner (or heater) blowing air, air that he felt drifting across his bare skin. He could feel the hospital scrubs he was dressed in; was he at S.T.A.R. Labs? Had they won? Oliver forced his eyes to open, heavy as they were, and found himself in a vaguely familiar room. He pulled himself up into a sitting position, feeling sluggish, and looked around. He was in a hospital room, a private one at that, like the one that he had been in when he first returned to then-Starling City all those years ago. In fact, he was pretty sure this was that exact room.

Oliver stood, grimacing as his body protested the movement, and headed for the window. He wasn't feeling the same as he had before. He had become more in tune with his body during his time with the League and that had continued over the following years. As a result, he could instinctively tell he wasn't in the peak condition he had been in while fighting off those Shadow Demons in the Crisis. How long had he been sleeping? Or would it be more accurate to say he had been in a coma?

Oliver stood at the window, taking in the view of his city, and he felt something cold and dark, akin to dread, begin to curdle in his stomach. The skyline wasn't the one he remembered from the last time he had been in Star City. For one, the 'twin towers' of Queen Consolidated and Merlyn Global dominated the skyline. For another, the Glades remained undisturbed by the Undertaking and the aftermath of the destruction of Damien Darhk's 'ark' that had destroyed so many lives when it blew courtesy of Lonnie Meacham, or Anarky as he preferred to be called.

_ This has to be a dream, _ Oliver thought to himself. _Or I'm trapped in my own personal hell dimension now that I've died._ Oliver turned and entered the en suite bathroom, intending to splash some cold water on his face and see if that helped, only to stop in consternation when he found himself on the platform where he and Barry had first confronted Novu. The being in question was standing in the center of the platform. "What is this?" Oliver asked. "What have you done?"

"I have grown… fond of you in our time together, Oliver," Novu said, and Oliver refrained from giving a snort of disbelief, not wishing to anger the powerful being. He doubted Novu was fond of anything, much less anyone. He saw himself as above those who lived in the 'mortal realm'. While what he had learned in Nanda Parbat had ultimately been about the Anti-Monitor (and wasn’t that a revelation, that the League of Assassins had been founded to keep the balance in order to keep the Anti-Monitor from destroying the world), Oliver had come to the realization that beings like Novu and his adversary did nothing without gaining something from it for themselves. But he doubted Novu would reveal what he gained from whatever he was doing here; that would be a mystery for Oliver himself to solve. "You have gone above and beyond in your duties to prepare for the Crisis, and your noble sacrifice on Earth-38 helped to galvanize those left behind. So, I have chosen to reward you with a chance few are ever given. I'm sure you've noticed _when_ you are."

"The day I returned to Starling," Oliver said. "I thought the universe was a delicate piece of machinery, that one change required another. What's the price of this 'second chance' you've given me?"

"For the most part, the universe will take care of that itself," Novu replied. "The universe and time will fight back if you move to deal with too much, too fast. Your knowledge will become obsolete if you change things too much. You will also face opposition from Eobard Thawne, the Council of Time Masters, perhaps even from those you once called allies." The allusion to Barry or even the Legends was obvious, and Oliver wondered if he would have it in him to deal with those that he called allies if they tried to interfere in what he did, if he didn’t let things play out the same as they had. 

"There's more to this than just wanting to reward me for a job well done," Oliver said after considering the Monitor’s statement. "Something else is driving this. What is it?"

"I have looked into the future after the Crisis," Novu replied. "I believed your death, and the sacrifice of The Flash, would force your allies to change, force them to see the truth: that their own selfish wants and desires, their constant changes to the timeline, had consequences for the universe. But nothing has changed. Your allies attempted to reverse your death, ultimately failing, and the wrong Barry Allen sacrificed himself. The Barry Allen you left behind continues, along with his team, to think that the universe will make exceptions for them, as they thought it should make an exception for you when they tried to bring you back. The Legends continue to time travel without regard for the impact it has on those around them. There is also the future of your city, and your children, to think about."

“You mean the future that we stopped,” Oliver tried to refute, thinking of that moment in the tunnels under Star City where he had stopped Mia, his adult daughter from the future, from killing Grant Wilson. According to what she, William, and Connor had told them, Grant would escape continually and become a cult icon to the disenfranchised of Star City. That eventually led to an uprising and a mutation of the word hero to refer to the likes of Grant Wilson and those who followed him rather than Oliver and those he had inspired to rise up. It had been a sickening revelation to be had. **_*1*_** ****

“No,” Novu replied, causing Oliver to feel sick to his stomach. “As your daughter warned you, Grant Wilson escaped from Blackgate Prison again and again. Your daughter and the Canaries matched wits with him each time, but in the end, the Glades rose up and walled themselves off, bringing about the very future your team hoped to avoid. Your city was unable to rally behind your daughter, though she bore your mantle, just as it was unable to rally behind your sister Emiko after she began masquerading as the Green Arrow. The moment you revealed yourself, the perception of the public shifted. Suddenly, the Green Arrow wasn’t a folk hero who could be anyone. He was a man, he was someone _known_ to them, and any who tried to take the identity would be scorned.” 

“You’re saying that it needs to be me that fights Grant, to keep the Glades from rising up,” Oliver said. 

“I have seen many futures, Oliver, and in each one Grant Wilson is the one who inspires madness and brings about a dark age in your city,” Novu replied. “Only when you stand against him as the Green Arrow is the city kept safe.”

"Alright, I get that part of this. But what do you expect me to do about what Barry’s team and the Legends are doing?" Oliver asked Novu. "I can't force Barry or Sara to never time travel or force their teams to not react as they do. They wouldn't listen to me, anyways, even if they knew that I'd been sent back in time and even if I chose to change things 'responsibly'."

"As Kara Danvers once told you, Oliver, the heroes of Earth-1 looked to you for an example," Novu replied, and there was no mistaking the cold tone in his voice. "Is it any wonder, then, that when you began to put your own wants and desires above the good of your city, the others did as you did? You put your desire to be seen as every bit the 'hero' you saw Barry as above the city you swore to protect." Oliver flinched back at the painful, but truthful, accusation, but Novu wasn't done.

"You put your need for validation and acclaim above doing what was right," Novu continued. "Is it any wonder, then, that Barry Allen, who had stopped himself from changing the timeline a mere one year earlier, chose to create Flashpoint? Is it any wonder that Sara Lance, Ray Palmer, and others decided to use their journeys through time to validate their own status as heroes?" Novu stepped forward. "You _are_ the beginning of this age of heroes, Oliver Queen. But what will this age of heroes be? A band of selfish glory seekers whose only desire is their own gratification? Or will it be a band of selfless heroes, dedicated to protecting their cities and their world, no matter what the cost?" Novu raised another hand, and in a blinding flash of light, Oliver found himself standing in the bathroom of the hospital room.

Almost on automatic, Oliver turned on the faucet in the sink and splashed water on his face, before looking into the mirror. It was very odd, seeing a much younger face staring back at him. It was shocking, if he were being truthful, to see how much the stress of his seven-and-a-half years of being a vigilante, or hero if you wanted to use that term, had taken a toll on him. Oliver returned to bed to try and get some rest for the remainder of the night, tossing and turning as the Monitor's words haunted him, as did images of future battles to come and the last image he had of his daughter, staring down at him in grief. 

**_ *DC* _ **

"You don't look well-rested, Oliver," Moira Queen observed as she and her son sat in the back of the Queen family's Bentley (one of them, at least). "Though, I guess I'm not surprised. Hospital beds aren't intended for comfort, even in private rooms like the one you were in."

"They certainly don't want people thinking of the hospital as a hotel," Oliver couldn't help but quip tiredly, giving a small smile and earning a chuckle from his mother. It was so _good_ seeing her alive, even though he knew about the many things she had done to keep their family 'together' without anything compounding it. Thea. William. Emiko. His mother seemed to have a habit of hiding things about family members (or outright hiding said family members). Just like his family tended to have a habit of getting involved in nefarious schemes, no matter what universe they inhabited or how close-knit or dysfunctional they were. "Mom, before we go to the mansion, there's something I need to do."

"What is it, sweetheart?" Moira asked, though she suspected she knew the answer; she knew her son very well, after all, and there was only one thing he would want to do more than get back to the comfort of the mansion. Oliver confirmed her suspicions only moments later.

"I need to see Laurel, tell her the truth before the news," Oliver said. "I owe her that much." Not to mention he wasn't going to pretend Sara was dead when he knew she was alive. Instead, he had a different story he would tell Laurel, one that would keep hope alive for her, her father, and her mother until he could figure out a way to free Sara from the League of Assassins. And this time, if she decided to walk away from her family and friends because of one setback, Oliver would let her have it and reveal his own dark past, what he had done to that man in Russia, to try and prove to her that no one was beyond redemption. _Well, almost no one,_ Oliver thought darkly as his mind touched upon Damien Darhk, Adrian Chase, and Ricardo Diaz.

Moira, unaware of the thoughts swirling in her son's mind though she had seen his face twist slightly, perhaps remembering the death of Sara, called up to the driver. "Take us to C.N.R.I., on Wells Street."

"Yes, ma'am," the driver replied.

"C.N.R.I.?" Oliver asked, playing the role of the man who had been lost at sea for five years and unaware of all the changes in the lives of his loved ones.

"Short for the City Necessary Resources Initiative," Moira replied. "It's a legal aid office in the Glades. Laurel turned down a rather profitable offer in San Francisco to remain in the city and help the less-fortunate." Moira's expression softened. "She reminds me very much of Rebecca." Her tone was almost wistful as she remembered the only woman that she had considered close to a 'best friend' and the work Rebecca had pioneered. Work that Rebecca's husband intended to see wiped from the map along with thousands of lives.

Oliver stayed silent, knowing what his mother was thinking about. The soonest he would be able to stop Merlyn was Christmas, and that was if things played out the same. He was going to do things differently this time around; the Monitor's words had affected him deeply. It was up to him to be an example for the heroes that would rise in the next few years, and this time he needed to show them the path he had found the balance of in his seven-year journey as a hero. The times where extreme measures were needed were few and far between. He would need to curb his darker impulses, those left over from his time as Al Sah-Him.

That was something that he would need to avoid, if he could; the League of Assassins was part of what kept the Anti-Monitor locked away, or so the implications had been from the journal of the first Ra’s al Ghul. They were servants of the balance of the universe, just like the Monitor was. He had to do his best to avoid coming into conflict with them, and if he did, finding a way to resolve that conflict without the League descending into anarchy and dissolving. **_*2*_** ****

**_ *DC* _ **

Oliver had only rarely ventured into C.N.R.I. when it had been whole and open for business, but what he saw was as he remembered it. Lawyers and assistants dashing to and fro, or typing on computers (which reminded him, why hadn't C.N.R.I. digitized their client files?), some on the phone with clients, cops, and court officials. Oliver made his way through the swarm of humanity, having already picked out Laurel seated at her desk. As he approached, he noticed her brow was furrowed, a little crinkle between her eyes showing the depth of her concentration. It was a familiar pose; one he had seen in her time and again during their youth and during particular intense cases over the next four years before she was killed by Darhk. He had even seen it a couple of times in Earth-2’s Laurel during the missions she joined him on for the Monitor. 

Oliver swallowed the lump that swelled in his throat as his mind registered that for the first time in almost four years, he was seeing the _real_ Laurel, the one he had known, the one he had grown up with, the one he had loved, the one he had _avenged_. She was here, she was alive, and even though she hated him right now, he knew that wouldn't last. This is what emboldened him to take those final few steps to close the distance between them. "Hello, Laurel," Oliver said softly, and her hand (in the midst of taking notes on the case file she was studying so intently) froze, her green eyes widening.

Laurel turned in her seat slowly, looking up to meet his gaze. He saw a brief shine of relief that was almost instantly washed away by shock and anguish, because she instinctively knew he was here with bad news. "I-Can we talk? Privately?"

"We have a couple of rooms for client consultation," Laurel said, her voice flat. "We can borrow one of those." She led the way, both of them ignoring the whispers and pointing fingers. Once ensconced in the room, Laurel turned to face Oliver. "I know why you're here, Ollie. You want to tell me she's dead."

"Actually, Laurel, I don't know if she is or not," Oliver replied, and Laurel drew in her chin in consternation. "After the _Gambit_ went down, I did think she was gone. I'd seen her sucked out of the ship, and I couldn't find her anywhere in the storm. A year after I arrived on the island where I washed up, a ship arrived. Sara was onboard."

"What happened?" Laurel asked, swallowing the lump that formed in her throat.

"The ship belonged to a scientist who was trying to recreate some serum from the 1940s, and he was experimenting on everyone aboard the ship," Oliver replied. "The serum he was looking for was on the island I'd washed up on. Once he had it, he continued his experiments. The ship ended up sinking off the coast of the island, and I saw Sara sucked out into the ocean _again_." Oliver leaned against the table inside the room. "Laurel, when the _Gambit_ went down, it was in the middle of a storm. Sara survived that. When the _Amazo_ went down, it was in _calm_ waters off the shores of the island. She might've survived that, drifted to another island on the wreckage from the _Amazo_. I just… I don't know. But I swore when I came back that I wouldn't lie to you ever again, even if the only thing I said to you was about what happened to her. You deserve that much, especially after what I did."

Laurel nodded, closing her eyes and not able to help the small thrill of anger and hope that shot through her. Anger because she had half-expected Oliver to be the same callous playboy that she remembered him being in the rage-filled haze she had lived in for the past five years and hope because it meant there was a chance her little sister was alive. Oh, don't get her wrong; she was angry as hell at both Ollie and Sara, but that didn't mean she wanted her sister to be dead; she was her _sister_ , after all! "Thank you, Ollie," Laurel said now, her voice thick with emotion, "for coming to tell me this. I need some time to think, to process all this. I know where to find you if I have more questions."

Oliver nodded and turned to go. He stopped at the door and turned back. "You know," Oliver said thoughtfully, "I can't help but think the phonetics for C.N.R.I. would come out as 'Canary'. Seems to me she's always been with you, even if she wasn't here." Oliver smiled softly at Laurel's surprised expression. "Goodbye, Laurel." Oliver exited the room without another word, leaving a troubled ex-girlfriend to figure out how she felt about everything he had told her (and to inevitably share it with Quentin Lance, who would undoubtedly maintain his grudge for as long as he was steadily drinking).

**_ *DC* _ **

Oliver stood looking at himself in the full-length mirror, a towel wrapped around his waist; much like his reflection in the hospital bathroom mirror, it was odd seeing his younger body, without the wear and tear it had been through while fighting super-soldiers, metahumans, aliens, and Nazi doppelgangers, to name a few of the issues he had had to deal with over the years. Oliver smiled wryly to himself. If he hadn't been through all of that, he would never believe such things existed. For all that it was daunting to imagine going through it all again, Oliver had come to realize the gift that Novu had given him, whatever his ulterior motives might be, and he doubted it was just what Novu had told him; the Monitor was an onion.

Oliver blinked as the image of Novu as said vegetable flashed through his mind. He shook his head. _Way too much time spent around Barry and Kara,_ he thought, deciding to shunt the blame for any such thoughts off onto his perpetually cheerful super-powered friends. Sobering, Oliver's hand drifted to his chest, which was absent a few extra scars he had picked up over the years, including the one from Ra's… the one that had been a constant reminder that he was on his second chance in life. He had joked about penicillin tea and being 'close' to dying… but the truth was he _had_ died.

He remembered being somewhere warm, somewhere that felt safe, like _home_ , and then he remembered waking up in that cabin with Maseo and Tatsu. Ra's _had_ killed him. Even if he hadn't punctured Oliver's lung when he put that sword through his chest, he had crushed Oliver's windpipe and kicked him _hundreds_ of feet down a cliffside. It would've taken a good ten to twenty feet of snow to soften _that_ landing, and there had been only three feet of snow, if that, on the ledge where Oliver had landed. And if Oliver was honest with himself, the turn towards selfish wants and desires the Monitor had accused him of following the path of had begun after he returned from his duel with Ra's. **_*3*_** ****

"Third time's the charm," Oliver whispered to himself before turning away from the mirror and headed for his wardrobe. It was time to be Oliver Queen, billionaire scion, again.

**_ *DC* _ **

The dinner went about the same as last time, though this time Oliver took special note of his mother and stepfather's initial reluctance about him swinging by the company the next day. Interesting, considering how they had tried to press-gang him into a position in Queen Consolidated the very next week. Something Oliver might well accept this time, because if things went as they did the last time around (that is, if Merlyn escaped their confrontation at Christmas), then he intended for himself to be the one who replaced Walter as C.E.O., not his mother. As C.E.O. of Queen Consolidated, Oliver would have the oversight of everything in the company… including Unidac Industries.

His meetings with Tommy and Thea had been as emotional, if not more so, than the previous timeline because of the last times he had seen them. The last time that he had seen Thea, she had been beginning work with Talia al Ghul to create a new League, a League dedicated to heroism; it was strange to see Thea before she became a warrior, before she gained those scars from Athena. The last time he had seen Tommy was the dark version of his friend on Earth-2, before the Anti-Monitor had wiped that universe from existence. Seeing Tommy be vaporized by anti-matter had been like losing his friend all over again. That had been the _third_ time he had seen Tommy Merlyn die, and he was intent on making sure he never had to see it again. 

As Oliver prepared to turn in, his mind drifted to tomorrow and the kidnapping that would unfold. He and his mother had had a lot of talks before and after her trial, and one of the things she had confessed to him was that the men who had kidnapped he and Tommy had been working for her, because she was afraid of what would happen if Malcolm ordered Oliver interrogated. That explained why the men had had no body-cams to record everything, as most professional outfits would've had. Because of this, Oliver would take a different tactic; and with any luck, since he wasn't going to go see Laurel at C.N.R.I. (as he had already done so), the bystander who had been killed would be spared.

This time, there would be no story of a hooded vigilante that saved him and Tommy. That had forced him to move up his plans. Now he had a chance to set up a solid base of operations, perhaps inside Queen Consolidated itself (like that used by the team while he and Felicity had been living their fantasy life after defeating Ra's until they'd created the Bunker). He also needed to work on a new arsenal of trick arrows. This time, he needed to do things differently. He needed to _inspire_ as much as he brought justice. He didn't need to turn into the person he had in his first official year as Green Arrow; but he didn't need to be as brutal as he had been during his first and fifth years. Balance was the key; balance between the darkness and the light. The same balance he had found in the fight with Emiko and which he had fought with as he prepared for the Crisis.

Oliver laid back on the too-comfortable bed, closing his eyes, and hoped beyond hope he would not be haunted again by nightmares of a future that would, with any luck, become only a distant memory by the time he was done. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hope everyone enjoyed the chapter. 
> 
> Chapter Notes:
> 
> *1* The Monitor’s comments regarding Barry and his team feeling the universe makes exceptions for them is just how I can see them thinking of Barry Allen-90’s sacrifice.
> 
> Regarding the mutation of the word hero and its association with Grant Wilson, that is just my interpretation to explain why Mia has such an aversion to the word and its meanings.
> 
> *2* I believe Crisis being moved up was the culmination of several things. What Thawne did with Nora was a huge part of it, but there’s the destruction of the Council of Time Masters, as well as the end of the League of Assassins and H.I.V.E. to consider. At least, that’s my head-canon.
> 
> *3* There was maybe a foot of snow on the ledge where Oliver landed. He fell hundreds of feet with a stab wound all the way through his right lung and landed on his back. At *best*, he would’ve broken every bone in his body, including his skull.


	3. The Meeting

Oliver smiled to himself as he circled around the back of the property, along the tree line, and headed back towards the Queen Mansion. Seeing the mansion whole and unburnt, seeing his mother and sister both alive and relatively unburdened (his sister more than his mother), and even seeing Walter and his mother's relationship had given him a feeling of peace he had been missing since he had left Felicity and Mia at the safehouse and begun his journey through the multiverse with Novu.

Of course, this was the first step in getting himself back into the peak condition he needed to be in to make full use of the training he had received from Ra's al Ghul. He would need that edge come Christmas, when he faced the Dark Archer, as he had started calling Merlyn's alter ego after the incident on Earth-2 where he had faced that Earth’s Dark Archer, Tommy Merlyn, before the Earth in question was destroyed by the anti-matter wave that the Anti-Monitor unleashed in his struggle for power with the Monitor. Again, he blamed too much time spent around Barry, Kara, Cisco, Felicity, and Curtis as the reasoning for his coming up with or accepting the use of 'cute nicknames' for his enemies.

The brisk October air brought a healthy flush to his cheeks as he entered the mansion through one of the back doors and headed for the kitchen (the family kitchen, that is, which allowed them a more intimate setting). He found his mother there, enjoying a morning cup of coffee while reading the newspaper on the counter, Walter Steele checking the documents in his briefcase to make sure everything was in order. "Morning," he greeted, leaning down to give his mother a quick peck on the cheek and receive one in return.

"Morning, sweetheart," Moira greeted her son.

"Good morning, Oliver," Walter said pleasantly. "You're quite chipper this morning."

"A morning run is just what I needed to wake up," Oliver said. "Well, almost. Where is the… ah. There it is." Moira and Walter exchanged amused looks as Oliver took his time to prepare his own cup of coffee and took a slow sip. "Five years of not having this makes you really enjoy it," Oliver said in his defense as he saw their amused looks. "Well, I know what I'm doing today. Tommy wants to show me the sights, make sure I'm familiar with the city again." Some of these early things were going to be so tedious, and this was one of them; after seven years of fighting a never-ending war against crime and corruption, Oliver knew the streets of Starling City better than anyone else. "What's on the agenda for you two?"

"I'm off to Queen Consolidated to finalize a few things before we break ground on the Applied Sciences center," Walter replied. "Some are wondering what the point of such a facility is with the goings-on in Central City. Harrison Wells and his Particle Accelerator will change the face of science."

"And I have a luncheon I have to attend," Moira informed her son.

"Well, I would say have fun, but I doubt the work of a C.E.O. or a society luncheon is all that fun," Oliver replied with a smirk.

"But they can be rewarding," Moira reminded her son, and he shrugged in response. If there was one thing he had learned over the years, it was the value of masks, and he had eventually learned that he often surprised people with the moves he made while in positions of leadership if he presented his typical playboy face to the world. He _wanted_ that; it would ensure that should the worst happen, and Malcolm escaped him at Christmas, he could surprise Malcolm and Moira when he took over for Walter, assuming Ned Foster could be convinced to let him over Moira, who had remained recalcitrant on the matter until later on.

"Well, I should go get ready for the day," Oliver said, finishing his cup of coffee and leaving the family kitchen.

**_*DC*_ **

The kidnapping went off without any deaths this time, which Oliver was glad for. It helped that he and Tommy had been taken in an underground garage downtown rather than down the street from C.N.R.I. in the Glades. Oliver had told the kidnappers that his father didn't make it off the boat, that the only thing he and his father had talked about was his dalliance with the Lance sisters and how that wouldn't end well. Oliver even added a warbling desire to not die to his pleading with the kidnappers, who knocked him and a slowly waking Tommy back out with a sedative and left them in a park, where they were found by the S.C.P.D.

Now they were back at the Queen Mansion, the police having just left after getting Oliver and Tommy's statements. Oliver stood from the couch and looked out across the grounds of the mansion; the sun was already low in the sky. "I guess I was wrong," Oliver said, causing Moira, Walter, and Tommy to look at him in confusion. "Corporate life clearly isn't as boring as I thought."

"What makes you think that, Oliver?" Walter asked.

"Those men wanted to know if Dad told me something," Oliver said. "Seems pretty obvious it was some kind of corporate thing. What else would Dad have secrets about?"

"Hmm, a fair point," Walter said with a nod. "I'll take a look at our files from five years ago, see if anything springs to mind and give that to the detectives. Should help their investigation." Moira was able to hide her discomfort from Walter and Tommy, but Oliver noted the flash of panic in her eyes. He said nothing and gave no reaction to what he had seen, knowing his mother was probably worried about something in the files from five years ago that pointed to the Undertaking. As much as he loved his mother, he knew it had taken the dramatic revelation that he was the vigilante and was going to confront Malcolm no matter what for her to turn against the man. She had probably hoped S.W.A.T. would take care of Malcolm and Oliver would be safe from having to confront his godfather. She was too scared of Malcolm for now to believe anyone could or would stand against him.

"While that might be the only time that I run the risk of something like this happening," Oliver said slowly, "perhaps I should look into getting a bodyguard."

"I think that's a wonderful idea," Moira said instantly. "I can get you a list to choose from by the end of the day and your choice can meet you first thing in the morning."

"Perhaps the day after next," Oliver replied. "I'd like the chance to completely vet my top choices." Moira nodded, looking pleased at her son's caution. If only she knew what her son had planned, she might not have looked quite so pleased.

**_*DC*_ **

Just as seeing his younger body and lack of certain scars had been slightly disconcerting for Oliver, seeing this younger version of the man who would become his brother-in-arms in many ways as Spartan was disconcerting, especially as he knew they would have a long way to go before they reached that point again, if John was even open to working with Oliver once he realized the agenda for the day. After all, it had taken the John Diggle Oliver had known and bonded with several years to accept that their work existed in a gray area, much like A.R.G.U.S.

Arranging the meeting had been easy enough; the hellspawn (though if he were honest, he thought the term was rather tame for the woman in question) he was going to be speaking to would love a chance to further sink her claws into him. But Oliver knew he needed to do things differently this time, and there was only one organization for the time being that could provide the back-up he would need for Merlyn and, later, Slade. It just happened to be headed by a sociopathic She-Devil at the moment. Of course, there was always the question of whether said She-Devil was, in fact, a plant for the Ninth Circle considering that they had infiltrated as high up as a Deputy Director. Or, much as Oliver hated to think it, Waller had been the one to hold such infiltrations back. He would need to find out where on the totem pole Bennett was at this point in time. 

"John Diggle, I presume," Oliver said, walking forward with a hand outstretched. "Oliver Queen."

"Mr. Queen," Diggle replied with a nod. "If you're ready to go, sir, I'd like to get underway. We can get to know each other as we drive."

"Sounds fair to me," Oliver replied. He got in the back of the car, Diggle getting in the front, and the car made its way down the drive. Oliver waited until they were through the front gate to begin. "So, how much?"

"Sir?" Diggle asked confusedly.

"How much did my mother offer you to give her status updates on me?" Oliver asked, turning from where he had been looking out the window to meet Diggle's gaze via the rearview mirror.

"An extra two thousand dollars every week," Diggle finally said. "She wasn't happy when I told her no." He peered at Oliver through the rearview mirror. "How did you know?"

"My mother likes to pretend our family is perfect, but we're dysfunctional as hell," Oliver replied. "My sister is using drugs and engaging in riskier behavior, my mother pretends she doesn't manipulate things to her favor and pays off everyone that points out my sister's problems, and as for me… well, you're going to find that out soon enough." Oliver took a scrap of paper out of his jacket and passed it up to Diggle, who took it. "We need to be at that address by ten-thirty." The address was the A.R.G.U.S. safehouse where he had first met General Marcus Shrieve, the same safehouse he had stayed in (albeit briefly) while working for A.R.G.U.S. and, by association, the general against China White. "I do hope once you realize just who and what I am you'll still work with me. I'll answer your questions once this meeting is done."

"Alright," Diggle said slowly before putting the address into the GPS and focusing on the driving.

**_*DC*_ **

It was 10:25 a.m. when the Bentley pulled up in front of the rundown building in the Glades. Diggle gave Oliver a doubtful look, wondering what kind of meeting he was going to attend (no doubt thinking the young billionaire was going to score some drugs himself). "Come along, John," Oliver said. "You'll get some answers inside. Don't worry. You've already been cleared to come in and keep your weapon." Diggle and Oliver exited the Bentley, entering the building. The inside of the building was more or less rundown as well, but Diggle's sharp eyes noticed there was no sign of the usual denizens of such a building, nor examples of the poverty that should be evident, such as piss puddles and stains of many kinds smeared on the walls. Oliver led the way (which rankled the bodyguard just a bit) up the stairs to the third level and approached a door guarded by two men in black ops uniforms, which had Diggle's eyes narrowing.

Oliver and Diggle entered the room after submitting to a search by the two men at the door. "You're clear," one of the A.R.G.U.S. agents (not that Diggle knew who he was yet) said, and Oliver nodded, entering the apartment with Diggle at his shoulder. Inside the room, Amanda Waller was sitting at the card table that had been erected, Lyla Michaels hovering over her shoulder. Both Diggle and Lyla froze as they saw one another, Diggle's gaze swiveling to Oliver's back as he approached the chair.

"Amanda," Oliver greeted, surprising Lyla (and Diggle noting the surprise on his ex-wife's face). Lyla had worked for Amanda Waller for a few years now, and she knew of _no one_ who called her boss by her first name. They called her Waller, Director, Director Waller, The Wall, and occasionally Hell-Bitch, but she didn't know of anyone who used her first name the way Oliver Queen had just done.

"Oliver," Waller returned, her expression blank. While she was not a woman prone to fondness (she was quite proud of her ability to turn off her humanity), she would express to a certain degree of fondness for Oliver Queen, if only due to his skillset and that he had turned the tide against odds she would have given up as no win scenarios no less than five times that she knew of. Yes, she was aware of his actions in Russia; she had been preparing an A.R.G.U.S. response unit to the Kovar situation when she realized her asset (she still considered him one of hers even if he liked to pretend otherwise) was already dealing with it in his typical fashion, including fashioning himself unusual allies. The only thing of concern was that they had captured an image of Oliver with a woman who was flagged in their systems only as Talia. She was believed to have forged connections with powerful people in many countries, and Oliver's return to Starling City so soon after his encounter with this woman was _troubling_ , to say the least.

"Thank you for meeting with me on such short notice," Oliver said, drawing on the lessons in diplomacy his father had drilled into him and which he had used to great effect as Mayor of Star City.

"I doubt you would reach out for a simple luncheon, Oliver," Waller replied.

Oliver reached into his jacket and pulled out the notebook containing the List, which he placed on the table between them. Waller took it and looked over the names listed there, her dark eyes narrowing. She certainly recalled this List; her agents had recovered everything of use from Lian Yu after the debacle with the _Amazo_ and while they had given Oliver what he had needed to complete his mission in Hong Kong, they had gone over everything else with a fine tooth comb to glean every bit of information they could. The List had perplexed them, being a mixture of lawyers, doctors, businessmen, world-class hitmen, and arms dealers, among others. They couldn't understand the connection between these people, and if there was one thing Amanda Waller hated, it was not understanding something. She prided herself on being a woman who always had the upper hand. "What about this list, Oliver?" Waller finally asked.

"Every single person on the List is working for the same person who tried to murder my father by destroying the _Queen's Gambit_ ," Oliver replied. "They are turning the Glades in Starling into a cesspit of crime, where no good citizen would ever dare to tread. A criminal kingdom in the center of one of our metropolises. All so that this person, this _terrorist_ , can destroy the Glades and everyone in it and those who they’ve forced into helping can avoid feeling guilty about wiping out thousands of lives."

Waller set the List down on the table. "You have a plan."

"I do," Oliver replied. "I intend to use my skills to go after these people, one at a time, and draw their backer into a confrontation. But I'm no fool, Director; I know I need a support network. And I already have a history with A.R.G.U.S." Diggle shot his new _employer_ (and he didn't know how much longer the younger man would have _that_ title) a troubled look, something Lyla noticed and tried not to roll her eyes in exasperation regarding. Johnny never had understood the world was more than black or white. "If I succeed, you get to point to an example of how someone with a unique set of skills can make a difference. If I fail, you get to point to an example as to why something like the Justice Society of America can never work in the modern era. Either way, you win and get backing for the Suicide Squad."

"And how do you know about _that_?" Waller asked, tone frigid, and Lyla winced. Heads were likely to literally role if Waller figured out who leaked the information.

"I have my ways," Oliver replied calmly, meeting Waller's gaze without flinching. He had dealt with far deadlier people than the Director of A.R.G.U.S.

Waller decided she would deal with the issue of the potential security breach later. "I can supply you with a finite amount of aid for the time being, Oliver," Waller replied. "I will forward the dossiers on those I can spare to you by day's end." What he had said, even if she wondered where he got his information, was true. This was a win-win situation for her, and she would be a fool to pass up such an opportunity to get her pet project off the ground. Even better if the one she held up as an example was already affiliated with A.R.G.U.S. "I'm sure you know that some of the names on your List are of interest to A.R.G.U.S."

"I know, Amanda, and I will do my best to capture them for you," Oliver replied.

The meeting ended there, with Oliver taking back the List and leaving with Diggle in tow. They had made it to the Bentley and driven a block before Diggle finally met his gaze. "I'll take that explanation now, sir," Diggle said.

"Five years ago, the _Gambit_ sank into the depths during a storm thanks to a bomb that was put onboard," Oliver replied. "My father made it to the life raft with me and his bodyguard, David Hackett. He told me that he had failed this city and he wasn't the only one. He didn't tell me much more then, but I found a message from him that told me more, and a woman I met some months ago in Russia gave me the rest of the information I do have." Oliver met Diggle's gaze. "Have you ever heard of the League of Assassins?"

"Heard rumors about them in Afghanistan, thought the sheik who talked about them was smoking something strong," Diggle replied.

"Unfortunately, they're very real, and the person behind this madness was trained by them," Oliver replied. "I could try to do this on my own, but A.R.G.U.S. gives me some legitimacy if I need it. What I'm going to be doing, I'll be branded a vigilante for."

"So, what exactly is your plan?" Diggle asked. "Kill the people on the List? At least those you don't hand over to A.R.G.U.S.?" The disapproval was strong in Diggle's tone.

"No," Oliver replied. "I'm going to drag each and every one of these people into the light of day. If A.R.G.U.S. wants them, they can recruit them from their prison cells. I'm sure Waller would prefer that, anyways. She likes to pretend she's your savior when she recruits you."

"Speaking from personal experience, sir?" Diggle asked.

"Let's just say I learned the hard way that when Amanda Waller gets her claws in you, she never lets go," Oliver replied. "At least this way, I get more from her then passive protection." Oliver looked back out the window. "One day, I want to operate without the need for a government affiliation. I want to be able to _help_ the people in this city without worrying about being brought in. But until that day comes… I have to settle for aid from the She-Devil." Oliver turned to Diggle. "I know enough about you from your file to know that you aren't A.R.G.U.S. material. I won't blame you if you choose not to continue in this position. I'm sure Waller will have an option to replace you within twenty-four hours."

"But?" Diggle asked.

"But I hope you stay," Oliver replied. "I think we could work well together, Mr. Diggle. But I won't lie to you. My work will occupy a very gray area, and if that's not something you can accept, I won't blame you. Think on it and give me an answer in twenty-four hours. I'll contact Waller and let her know to be ready to replace you, just in case."

"I'll consider it, sir," Diggle said, turning his attention back to the road.

Oliver, meanwhile, was sure that he was forgetting about something special from yesterday. The only thing he could think of was that he had originally visited Adam Hunt and demanded the forty-million-dollar transfer to the bank account he had set up. But he had already decided he wasn't going to start his crusade just yet. He needed all his ducks in a row before he started his crusade this time around. But still the thought was nagging at him. What was he forgetting?

**_*DC*_ **

Adam Hunt stared hard at the man across the desk from him: Eric Gitter, the head of the City Necessary Resources Initiative and a man who was easily convinced to look the other way in exchange for lucrative offers. "I told you to take care of Miss Lance," Hunt said. "She's already filed a motion for Grell to be recused because I helped fund his campaign. What happened?"

"We're talking about an attorney who turned down a lucrative offer from a very influential firm in San Francisco to work at C.N.R.I. and help the less fortunate," Gitter replied. "Combine that with her connections with the Queen and Merlyn families, her father's position in the Major Case Unit, and the fact that the D.A.'s office is hoping to convince her to come work with them if C.N.R.I. ever closes its doors, and we're talking about someone who doesn't crack easily under pressure and who can't be bargained with or bought off. Her ethics are impeccable, making it impossible for me to frame her for an ethics violation. In short, there's nothing I can do aside from tell her she's taking too much on, which she duly ignores every time." **_*1*_**

"Well, then, if you can't deal with it, I will," Hunt replied. "How many cases is she working on that could prove _hazardous_ to her health?"

"Several," Gitter replied with a grimace, already seeing where Hunt was going with this. He mentally started considering who he would bring onboard at C.N.R.I. to replace Laurel from the pool of interns they currently had on staff. Considering Laurel's popularity in the office, he would probably lose a few more who weren't ready to lose their lives because of the cases they were involved in. The fact he was essentially condoning one of his brightest minds to a grisly death barely phased him. Laurel Lance wouldn't be the first lawyer whose death he'd be a party to. She'd already skated by a few times; it looked like her number was finally up. He wouldn't miss her; she was a pain in his ass.

"I want you there this time," Hunt told him, and Gitter looked at the man in consternation. "I know that C.N.R.I.'s days are numbered. You might be useful as part of our in-house counsel. But I need to know you can stomach the hard stuff." Hunt waved a dismissive hand and Gitter left the office, his mind troubled. It was one thing knowing some of the lawyers working under him had died; but to actually witness it? He didn't know how he felt about that. Then he recalled the arguments he had had with the opinionated young lawyer and his resolve hardened, as did a significant part of his anatomy at the thought of watching that pain in his ass get her reward.

Besides, there was no risk. Hunt and others that he took bribes from were protected from on high. There was no one in this city willing to take a stand; those who did ended up dead or gave up quick. Laurel was one of the few willing to keep taking a stand no matter how much frustration she faced, and she bolstered others. Without her, the work Hunt and others like him did could continue unimpeded.

It was a decidedly cheerful Eric Gitter that left Adam Hunt's building as evening descended while in the penthouse office, Adam Hunt made a fateful call, in more ways than one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter. 
> 
> Chapter Notes:
> 
> *1* I’ve always found it hilarious when people try to paint Laurel as some kind of gold-digger. If she was that type of person, she would’ve taken the job in San Francisco.


	4. The Abduction

Laurel Lance was winding down for the evening. Dressed in a comfortable pair of jeans and a light sweater, her shoes kicked off and her legs curled up under her, the 27-year-old lawyer sipped slowly at a cup of chamomile tea to relax from another stressful day at C.N.R.I. and in the courts. In addition to attempting to get the suit against Adam Hunt moved in front of another judge, one that wasn't in Hunt's pocket, she had had another _discussion_ with Eric about her caseload and that she needed to not take so much on, spread herself too thin. Laurel knew for a fact that he didn't ride anyone as hard as he did her, and it made her suspicious. Her father always talked about cop's trusting their gut; well, she was the daughter of a cop, and her gut told her something was very suspicious about her boss.

Laurel was also dealing with how she felt about Oliver's return from the dead and his belief Sara might be alive. For five years, she had believed both her little sister and her ex-boyfriend were dead, having died while sleeping together behind her back. The old, familiar anger surged in her at the thought, but she pushed that back down. If Oliver hadn't come to her and told her about Sara himself, she might think he was the uncaring bastard she had been picturing him as for the past five years, but there was no mistaking the regret and compassion in his voice the other day when he spoke to her at C.N.R.I.

He hadn't begged for her forgiveness; in fact, he had all but said he didn't deserve it. That was not the person she had pictured him as in the past five years; that was the man she had fallen in love with. Yes, he could be grandiose at times, and his eyes had wandered a bit too much, but he had been so sweet, so passionate, and she had seen the kind of man he could be if he just escaped the doubts he had about himself, doubts she knew had been instilled in him by his parents' expectations, something the two of them had talked about more than once. **_*1*_**

A knock sounded at her door. Laurel rolled her eyes as she moved to stand up, setting her cup of tea on the coffee table between her couch and her television before making her way towards her front door. She was pretty sure this was Tommy; he had come around after his 'scare' with Oliver and those kidnappers and they had sat together and talked a bit. Laurel had known Tommy wanted something more that night, but she had been focused on getting her arguments prepared for why Judge Grell couldn't rule without bias in a case involving Adam Hunt, one of his financial backers. But tonight, she needed some help relaxing and it _had_ been a little while since she and Tommy cut loose.

Laurel opened her door, only to almost immediately try to shove it closed again when she saw three men in black outfits and hoods covering their faces in the hallway. Two of them men collided with the door, their heavier bodies easily overpowering the force of her slender frame. She was pushed back against the cabinet across from the door as it swung open, wincing as a dish broke under her right hand as she tried to steady herself, the jagged edges cutting into her palm. Then one of the men drove the butt of the rifle he was carrying into her stomach, and the air left her lungs in a _whoosh_ as she collapsed to her knees, coughing. She felt a blinding pain in the back of her skull, and then there was nothing but blackness.

**_*DC*_ **

Oliver finished his now-usual morning run, stopping by the family kitchen to get a cup of coffee before heading to the sitting room, where his family had gathered to watch the news. "Anything interesting happening?" he asked as entered.

"Seems to be business as usual, Oliver," Walter replied.

"Oh, dear God," Moira whispered, snatching the remote in her hand and upping the volume as Oliver turned to the television, freezing as he saw a picture of Laurel (a version of the very picture she had given _him_ on the dock all those years ago) popped up on the screen.

"Attorney Laurel Lance was abducted from her apartment late last evening," the newscaster was saying. "No witnesses have come forward, and investigators are seeking any leads in the case. Miss Lance is the daughter of Detective Quentin Lance of the Major Case Unit of the S.C.P.D. and has gained notoriety while working at the City Necessary Resources Initiative in the Glades. Police are asking citizens for any information that could lead to Miss Lance's safe return."

The mug of coffee slipped from Oliver's grasp, landing on the carpet with a dull _thunk_ and staining the carpet a dark brown, nearly black. Oliver's hand trembled for a moment, his mouth moving but no sound coming out. His breath had caught in his chest; why were his family looking at him like that? Why did something that looked like the fizz from soda seem to be surrounding them? Oliver barely noticed the pain in his knees as they met the floor, but he saw his mother and sister rushing the distance between them before blackness claimed him again.

**_*DC*_ **

Quentin Lance ran a hand through his black hair, pacing up and down in the center of his living room, a bottle of whiskey clutched in his hand. He had been sent home and told that he was to stay away from the investigation into Laurel's abduction. Not that he would be of much use there, anyways; his mind was paralyzed with fear at the idea of losing his remaining daughter. Sara had been the baby of the family and thus cherished as 'the baby' of any family typically is, but she had taken after her mother in a lot of ways. Laurel… Laurel had taken after him. Oh, she still took after her mother when it came to matters of the heart, leaping into something without thinking of what might happen, but in the rest of her life she was methodical and reasoned. It was why she was so well-suited to her job as a lawyer (though Quentin admitted that Laurel had only taken _that_ job because he refused to allow either of his daughters to follow him into his work as a cop); and it was also why she had been his rock for the past five years, always there when he felt lost.

He couldn't lose her, too. He looked down at the bottle in his hand. _This won't help her,_ he thought to himself, and headed for the kitchen sink, pouring it out before he could argue himself out of it. Laurel had told him that Queen believed Sara was still alive out there, and combine that with the need his eldest had for him to have the sharpest mind possible… He flicked his coffee pot on, knowing he needed to sober up quick. Once that was done, he was going to head to Laurel's apartment, see what he could figure out from the scene. He would be damned if he was staying out of this when his daughter was in trouble. Frank could go fuck himself, and so could Nudocerdo.

**_*DC*_ **

"Oliver, please, you need to rest, not be dashing about," Moira Queen pleaded with her son as he finished putting his tie on and began pulling on a dark suit coat. His bodyguard, John Diggle, was standing outside the doorway. "I know you're worried about Laurel, but there's nothing we can do."

Oliver snorted in disgust at that. His mother always had been a good actress. There was plenty they could do, but it would mean 'tarnishing' the good name of the Queen family and with her obsession regarding their image (hence her actions regarding Emiko, Samantha, and Thea), she would never agree to doing anything that did that. "Oh, there are things that can be done, alright," Oliver replied. "You're just unwilling to do it." Oliver met his mother's shocked gaze with his own hard one. "The past five years chipped away everything that I wasn't, and left only the person I am, the person _Laurel_ always saw in me. I won't let her, or anyone else, be hurt or killed when I have the power to stop it." Oliver pulled on the overcoat and headed out the door. "Let's go, John."

"Yes, sir," Diggle said calmly, falling into step behind his employer and leaving a disturbed Moira Queen behind.

Moira stood in the center of her son's room, unsure exactly what had happened. Since his return, Oliver had been more or less quiet, aside from a couple of trips out into town the day before; the second trip, he had been heading to store the large trunk he had brought with him somewhere in the city. It had been the last thing he had done before sending Mr. Diggle home for the night. The man who had just left the room was very different from how her son had portrayed himself thus far, aside from his obvious continued affections for Laurel Lance. She mentally prepared herself not only for bailing him out after he got into trouble with the police, but also with finding a counselor for him when they received news of Laurel's fate.

That she could ask Malcolm Merlyn to look into this never even crossed the Queen matriarch's mind because, at the end of the day, her family was the most important thing to her, and Laurel Lance wasn't family, and she doubted Laurel and Oliver would ever return to the relationship they had once shared, so the chances Laurel would’ve eventually joined their family were practically non-existent.

**_*DC*_ **

Malcolm Merlyn stood looking out at Starling City in his office, his mind troubled. He had heard the news about Laurel Lance on his way into the office. This wasn't the first abduction of this kind (that of a lawyer with a habit of getting involved in risky cases), but it _was_ the first one that he had a personal connection to. He had met Laurel once or twice over the years, mainly at a birthday party for Tommy or Oliver. What he knew about her now came mainly because of his having Tommy followed whenever he ventured out, not that his son knew he was always protected wherever he went.

On the one hand, he _could_ intervene as Al Sa-Her. Malcolm had had one of his agents look into Miss Lance's cases and the only person she was currently pursuing legal action against with the kind of ferocity that would inspire this kind of action was Adam Hunt, and by association, Judge Joseph Grell. Grell was useful, but he wasn't the _only_ judge on the bench that Malcolm and his associates held sway with. He was just the one with the most to lose. Of course, Grell was a believer in mutually assured destruction; everyone he accepted bribes and favors from, he tried to dig up information on. Malcolm's dealings with Grell were through intermediaries, keeping him safe from Grell's methods of vengeance. Perhaps the most compelling reason for Malcolm to involve himself was Laurel's involvement with his son, Tommy.

Malcolm smiled to himself as he realized that despite their difficulties, Tommy was very much like him: handsome, charming, and head-over-heels in love with a woman who wanted desperately to help those she saw as the innocent and abused in the Glades. She had found a few cases that were quite real, and Malcolm had followed the progress in those cases with interest, nudging things along if necessary. He wasn't a monster; he wanted no innocents to be in the Glades when his vengeance was wrought, and Miss Lance was helping to assure that. With the monetary influx those people received from the cases they won, they had the ability to leave the Glades, even leave Starling City. Those that chose to stay in that crime-infested pit, he could be assured were criminal vermin like the man who had murdered his wife.

Malcolm's smile faded as the other side of things came to mind. When he had left the League, he had sworn an oath to live by the League's Code of Conduct, and amongst those stringent laws was that he could not expose the League to the world. Even if he killed every last person holding Laurel Lance captive, that would still leave one witness who could describe him, give the police something to work with, and thus expose the League in a fashion: Laurel herself. There was also the fact that Hunt and Grell were both more useful in their current positions than dead, and Malcolm would have to kill both of them seeing as Grell would be a loose end that could expose some of the things Malcolm wanted kept quiet. Laurel's death could also prove beneficial to him; it would harden Tommy against the people in the Glades, perhaps force his wayward son to grow up and recognize the world was not something to party your way through.

Malcolm tilted his head, weighing the pro's and con's of the situation as he would any business proposal. In the end, it was an easy decision. There was only one advantage to intervening and saving Laurel's life, and a number of advantages if he allowed her to die.

With his internal debate on the subject of Laurel Lance's fate decided, Malcolm returned to his desk and went over a business proposal that would have more of an impact on Starling City than the actions and life of one young attorney.

**_*DC*_ **

Oliver sat in the back of the Bentley as it drove through the city, his mind caught up with memories of Laurel, before and after the island. Days of playing together with Tommy and Sara, the changes they went through at Berlanti Preparatory (which handled grades six through twelve all on one sprawling campus), their college years. The way his and Laurel's relationship had begun and how she had encouraged him to seek his own path, to learn who he was. The moment he realized just how deeply she loved him and how much it scared him because he felt the same way for her but, like with Samantha, he didn't know how to handle that kind of thing and sabotaged himself. Coming back the first time, the way their friendship was slowly repaired, the feelings they had for one another surging just beneath the surface, them giving in to those feelings before the confrontation with Malcolm.

Then he had let his guilt over what happened to Tommy drive him and Laurel apart along with the fact he was once more going to be the city's resident vigilante and felt he was protecting her by not being with her. Laurel's downward spiral and Sara's return, their relationship that had ended up hurting Laurel further, and the argument between he and Laurel following the revelation of the relationship between he and Sara that had been a turning point in Laurel’s downward spiral. The Siege and their bitter exchange while Quentin laid in a coma had combined with Oliver's realization that his enemies would always seek those he loved and the only way to protect the love of his life was to make sure she _wasn't_ so obviously that. Finally, he had settled for Felicity, in part because he could ignore her when he decided he was right in what he was doing, such as when he worked with Malcolm to bring down Ra's. In the end, he had learned to love Felicity as much as he had Laurel. 

But the one thing Oliver had never forgiven himself for, _could_ never forgive himself for, was Laurel's death. He could've killed Darhk more than once before that night at Iron Heights, but he had wanted to believe he could be like Barry, could save his city in the same fashion. He had been fooling himself, and the woman he had loved for half of his life had paid the price for that. Worse, she had believed on her deathbed that while he was the love of her life, she was not the love of his. Watching her convulse on that table, the nurses and doctor shouting indistinct words (to him at least) as fear and horror flooded him, the outright despair that he drowned in as he left the room and the body of the woman he loved behind and collapsed in the hallway, and the speech he had given at her funeral, a funeral that should _never_ have happened.

Oliver knew he was focusing a bit much on what she was to him, but he also remembered reading somewhere that just because someone is the love of your life doesn’t mean you end up with them. Some people find themselves incompatible with the love of their life and have to move on. His life had been incompatible with Laurel for a long time. 

"Sir-Oliver, do you have a plan in mind for today?" Diggle asked, watching the younger man with concern.

"I want to see Laurel's apartment," Oliver said. "Get a feel of what happened." He leaned forward and handed a scrap of paper with the address written on it. Laurel's apartment was unlisted, a compromise between the then-21-year-old Laurel and her overprotective cop father. He didn't want his young, vulnerable daughter living alone in an apartment that just anyone could get the address of. As a result, only Laurel's closest associates and her workplace had a record of her address. **_*2*_**

"Alright, sir," Diggle said, taking the piece of paper.

**_*DC*_ **

Oliver had left Diggle outside in the Bentley. Mounting the familiar steps and entering the hallway leading to Laurel's apartment, Oliver was momentarily overcome with memories, again from before and after the island. He remembered coming here in what would've been a week's time to share ice cream with Laurel and get her advice about how to deal with her mother, how comfortable it had been to sit and talk. Taking a deep breath, he approached the door to Laurel's apartment. Police tape was crossed in front of it, and Oliver stood outside of the tape for a moment, examining what he could see. There was a dent in the door itself, and the cabinet behind the door looked as if something, or rather some _one_ , had slammed into it.

Oliver slipped past the police tape, pulling a pair of leather gloves from his pocket and slipping them on. His days as a consultant for the S.C.P.D. working with Dinah had taught him an appreciation for not mucking up crime scenes. He crouched in front of the door and examined the dent. If he had to guess, it had been made by a heavy steel-toed boot smashing against it. Oliver moved to the cabinet, examining the broken glassware, and then stiffened slightly as he noticed a dried, dark red substance. Laurel had cut herself when she hit the cabinet, probably on some glassware as she braced herself, trying to keep from falling. Light glinted off of glassware bits under the edge of the cabinet.

Oliver turned and looked further into Laurel's apartment. It was relatively undisturbed. Her abduction had been quick and decisive, a professional crew, not a home invasion turned kidnapping that most people would think because of where Laurel chose to live; Oliver knew enough about the S.C.P.D., both now and in the future, to know they would never look into deeper reasonings without given proper motivation, and Oliver had no ability as of yet to force them to look deeper for connections. Oliver stepped further into Laurel's apartment and picked up a framed picture, a soft smile raising his lips as his eyes moistened. It was a picture of he, Laurel, and Sara from before the island. Sara had just graduated high school, if he remembered right, and he and Laurel had taken her out bowling. Sara had thrashed them both, but that was probably because they spent too much time shamelessly flirting with each other and distracting one another.

Oliver felt the change in the air before he heard the footsteps, heard the sharp intake of breath and the barely noticeable angry growl. He set the picture back on the hallway table it had been resting on and turned to face Quentin Lance. "Hello, Detective," Oliver said calmly.

"What the _hell_ are you doing here, Queen? This is a crime scene, in case the tape didn't make that obvious for you," Quentin bit out.

"I couldn't sit in the Mansion and do _nothing_ ," Oliver said. "I guess I hoped I might see something or be able to do something. I know I shouldn't be here, Detective, but…" Oliver looked away. "I already lost Sara and my father. I can't lose Laurel, too, even if she hates me."

"Get outta here before I change my mind," Quentin said after a moment. Oliver nodded and ducked around the detective. He paused at the door and turned to the face the man. "What?" Quentin barked.

"Just… when Laurel moved in here, you insisted her address be unlisted for her safety," Oliver said. "Is that still the case?"

"Yeah," Quentin said, eyes narrowing. "It is."

"Who would know her address to give it to the men who did this, then?" Oliver asked. "Because nothing is missing, so it wasn't a robbery gone wrong."

"That's for me to worry about, Queen," Quentin said. "Get outta here."

Oliver left the apartment and a contemplative Detective Lance behind, already thinking of the answer to the very question he had posed to the detective. There were only a few people who knew Laurel's address, almost all of them were her limited circle of friends. The only exception was her workplace, C.N.R.I. Oliver entered the back of the Bentley, with an absent "Drive," issued to Diggle before he focused on using a memory retrieval technique Talia had taught him in Russia all those years ago (to him) to sort through his memories from C.N.R.I. in both timelines.

Soon enough, he found the connection, and wished he didn't. A man he vaguely recalled as being Laurel's boss had been meeting Hunt in the last timeline, and Hunt had been demanding he 'deal' with Laurel. That conversation had happened the night Oliver confronted the man in the previous timeline, a confrontation that never happened. Laurel would never have agreed to drop things with Hunt no matter how persuasive her boss tried to be, and that meant this was Hunt. Oliver now had his target; or rather, targets, because Gitter was the only one who could've given Hunt Laurel's address. They would be wanting to get rid of Laurel as quickly as possible and pin it on gang violence and the like. That could only mean she was being held in the Glades. It was time to look into the holdings Hunt had in the Glades, find out if there was an out of the way location that he would use to stash someone or perform an execution. "Take us back to the mansion, Dig," Oliver said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter. 
> 
> Chapter Notes:
> 
> *1* What they showed us of Oliver and Laurel in the show was unfortunately very shallow, so its up to us fanfic writers to flesh it out and make their relationship seem real. But then, considering the mess they made with their treasured Olicity, maybe its for the best Oliver/Laurel never truly had a chance in the show.
> 
> *2* From the sounds of it, Laurel moved out of her parents’ home since Oliver mentions having been in her apartment before, and I just don’t see Quentin Lance letting one of his daughters live in an apartment any yahoo can get the address of.


	5. Guardian Angel

Oliver and Diggle entered the Queen Mansion, Oliver already intent on heading up to his bedroom and researching Adam Hunt's holdings as much as possible. Oliver took note of his mother talking with a man in a rather fancy suit. "Hey, Mom," Oliver called, waving a hand distractedly and heading up the stairs. He heard his mother call Diggle over, but ignored it; no doubt she wanted to try and convince him to take her offer. As it was, Oliver was ninety percent sure that today was Dig's last as his driver/bodyguard. The man had said not one word about Oliver's request he join him in the effort to clean up Starling City.

Oliver entered his bedroom, and almost instantly the hairs on the back of his neck raised before two men in white grabbed him by the arms, another man coming forward with a syringe filled with what had to be a sedative. "Don't struggle, Mr. Queen," the man said. Oliver's response to this was to kick the man in the jaw. The man howled, clutching his mouth as two orderlies (for that was what they were) who had been standing by moved forward. The four men wrestled Oliver, trapped as he was by the suit that he wore that just wasn't cut for fighting, to the ground.

The doctor Oliver had kicked in the jaw came forward, blood dribbling from his lips and staining his teeth. He plunged the needle into Oliver's neck and depressed the plunger, sending the sedative into Oliver's bloodstream. Oliver's struggles grew weaker over the next five minutes as the sedatives took effect, until finally he lay unmoving, his muscles relaxing. Standing in the doorway, watching with a look of misery but a firm belief in her mind that this was the only path forward, was Moira Queen.

**_*DC*_ **

Unfortunately for those transporting Oliver to a psychiatric ward, he had spent the past five years being knocked out in a variety of ways and sedatives were among the many things he had built up a tolerance to (and it probably helped that the desperation he was feeling kept him from fully succumbing to the drugs). Oliver kept his eyes closed as he waited for strength to come back to his limbs. He was strapped in, a pair of cuffs on both his wrists and ankles. Opening his eyes barely a hair, Oliver could see one orderly and the doctor who had injected him in the back of what was no doubt a private ambulance. **_*1*_**

One of the orderlies was probably with the man he had seen with his mother, following in a separate car, with the last two driving the ambulance. Oliver slowly dislocated his thumb, the pain barely a blip on the radar for him thanks to all the practice he had had due to Anatoli insisting he be prepared and forcing him to practice dislocating his thumbs while restrained for three solid weeks; now all he had to do was wait for the right moment to act.

That moment came when the doctor who had injected Oliver with the sedative stood slightly to reach over Oliver's prone form. Oliver slipped his hand out of the restraint and struck swiftly, a knife hand strike to the doctor's throat. The doctor gagged, falling back, even as Oliver turned on his side, nimble fingers undoing the opposing restraint. Oliver lurched up and lashed out with a right hook as the orderly moved to push him back down. The right hook sent the orderly spinning backwards. Oliver undid the restraints on one leg, elbowed the doctor in the nose as he tried to grapple Oliver back onto the stretcher, and undid the other leg cuff.

Oliver was forced to scoot forward on the stretcher and, as the orderly rose back onto his feet, Oliver's legs shot forward, catching the orderly full in the chest and throwing him against the ambulance doors with enough force to throw them wide open, sending the orderly flying out of the back of the ambulance and onto the hood of the car trailing it. The driver of the car struggled to maintain control of the vehicle before careening to the side, even as the ambulance pulled to a stop. Oliver exited the ambulance, smoothing his coat before turning and delivering a crushing blow to the knee of the doctor who had been in the ambulance with him. The doctor fell out of the ambulance and onto the asphalt, the syringe he had been holding breaking on impact.

The doctor that had been in the car following the ambulance stumbled out of the crashed car and fell back on the sidewalk. Oliver picked up the sounds of the ambulance doors opening and moved to face the driver first, once again deploying a knife-hand strike before knocking the driver out. Oliver turned on his heel, catching the upraised arm of the orderly-paramedic that had a syringe in hand. Oliver bashed the man's hand against the side of the ambulance until the syringe fell out of his hand. Oliver ducked the wild swing the man aimed at him before delivering an uppercut to the man's chin, sending him wheeling backwards. Oliver delivered a front kick to the man's solar plexus, followed up by a roundhouse kick to the head. The man dropped like a stone.

Oliver straightened his coat and made his way to the sidewalk, ignoring the rips along varying seams in his clothes and the people pointing their phones at him. He'd gotten used to it thanks to his time working with Dinah and the S.C.P.D. Right now, he needed to find gear more suitable for following Hunt tonight to wherever he was keeping Laurel and then rescuing her. That meant hitting up an A.R.G.U.S. supply cache; while he was there, he would need to get Waller to handle the situation his mother had put him in.

**_*DC*_ **

Oliver trailed Hunt's limousine on a motorcycle, the helmet with tinted faceplate he wore keeping his features obscured from even casual passersby. He kept two car lengths behind Hunt's limousine at all times, looking for all the world like a motorist out for an evening drive. His riding jacket was lined with Kevlar, the tinted faceplate molded from bulletproof glass. Concealed on Oliver's body was an assortment of knives coated with a paralytic toxin to bring down Hunt's bodyguards and an A.R.G.U.S. standard-issue sidearm with mounted laser sight. If he couldn't have _his_ gear, this was the next best thing. He had spent his time at the A.R.G.U.S. depot practicing his throwing knife skills, making sure they were up to par. It was a little different from throwing flechettes, but still the same principle. Now, all he had to do was wait for Hunt to lead him to Laurel.

The hardest part about all of this was that Oliver had been remembering that final night of Laurel's life in vivid detail during the time he had spent biding his time, using traffic cams to keep an eye on Hunt's building to make sure the bastard didn't leave work early. From the helplessness he had felt as Darhk buried his arrow in Laurel's right side, twisting it as blood filled her mouth and she choked for air to running with her in his arms, bridal style, to his motorbike and driving like a madman to get to Starling General, telling a semi-conscious Laurel over and over again to hang on. The fear in her green eyes as he laid her on the table for the doctor to check over, the desperate return to the Bunker to change back into his civilian clothes and the race back to the hospital. Talking with her, learning that she still saw him as the love of her life, her asking him to make sure she wasn't the last Canary… and then that horrible moment when she started to convulse, watching as the doctor tried to resuscitate her, and the crushing darkness that seemed to encompass him as the doctor called, " _Time of death, 11:59._ "

He would not lose her again; he would _not_ watch the love of his life convulse and die again, not because of anything Adam Hunt or anyone else did, even though he knew that, in the end, he might never be able to live a normal life with her by his side. Because if what he had experienced and been shown by Novu had done anything, it had been to show him a simple truth: no matter what it was called, no matter who else might rise up to fight against criminality and corruption… his city would always need the Green Arrow. **_*2*_**

**_*DC*_ **

Laurel Lance had experienced fear from time to time in her life; no one's life was ever devoid of such feelings. But the fear she felt now, with her heart pumping rapidly as she was bound hand and foot in the trunk of a car, a gag pulling the corners of her mouth back painfully and her hair matted with sweat beneath the thick black hood that had been placed over her head was like nothing she had ever felt in her life. She had been held in a seedy, rundown tenement building somewhere in the Glades; there was nowhere else in the city such decay and filth was allowed to fester. She had been in a number of such buildings, in fact, while investigating Hunt for her case against him. The bastard probably found it poetic holding her in such a tenement.

Laurel hadn't been idle; she had tried to escape a couple of times, bound as she was. Both times, she had been struck several times with a stolen police baton and bound more tightly; she was sure her hands and feet were purple from the lack of circulation with how tight she had been tied up by the time Hunt's thugs had been given the order to move her. What crushed her worse than anything was the fact that no one had tried to come to her aid. No one had called the police. No one had tried to stop Hunt's men from beating her. No one had demanded to know what was going on when she was being dragged to and from the tenement. She had spent nearly three years working for the people of the Glades, getting justice for them, and no one _cared_. What had happened to the city she loved? What had happened to the people who cared for one another, who stood together in times of crisis?

Tears trickled out of her eyes and down her cheeks as she again thought of what her father must be going through and fearing what he would do when her body was found. She knew what was coming; she wasn't an idiot. Hunt had Grell and his lawyers to run interference, keep her father's colleagues busy for days on end. One missing attorney wasn't even a blip on the radar for the F.B.I. She had known when she decided to stay in Starling and fight the corruption choking the Glades that, one day, she might find herself in this position. That didn't mean having it finally happen was easy to accept. She wanted to _live_ ; she wanted to see her father, her mother, Tommy, even Oliver again. She wanted to wrap her arms around them and tell them how much she loved them. She wanted to relax in the evenings with the man she loved, and she was only a little surprised when the first face that came up in her mind was Oliver. More than anything, she wanted to raise a _family_ in a safe and secure Starling City, one where her children wouldn't need to fear being taken by human traffickers, men demanding ransom, and pedophiles. **_*3*_**

There was no sound of traffic now, and the creaking Laurel could hear sounded like the planks on a dock. Her heart pounded even faster than before; every so often the police dredged Starling Bay and found bodies of people who had been tied to cement blocks. The water patrols never seemed to find the people responsible, no doubt being well-compensated to look the other way as the mob and the corrupt elite dealt with those causing them problems. As the car came to a stop, Laurel found herself almost paralyzed with fear. Footsteps could be heard walking around the car, and then the trunk opened. She could make out dim light before it was blocked by figures looming over her. Rough hands grabbed her under the arms and knees, hauling her out of the trunk. She struggled, kicking out with her bound, sock-clad feet and catching the man holding her knees in the chest. Unfortunately, the man was built like an oak and barely uttered a grunt.

Her legs were set down and the man who had been holding them took one arm while the man who had been holding her arms switched his grip, so he only held the opposing arm from the man who had been holding her legs. She struggled with all of her might as she was dragged along the dock, splinters from the dock sliding through the fabric of her socks and poking her toes and the soles of her feet. She was forced to her knees, still struggling, and the black bag was pulled away from her face. Her hair, dyed brown because she felt it would make people underestimate her less than her natural honey blonde, hung in wet strings plastered to her face as she glared up at Adam Hunt, only for her teary green eyes to widen as she saw the man standing next to the millionaire bottom-feeder: her boss, Eric Gitter.

" _Eric!_ " Even muffled, her anguished shout could be made out. She had _believed_ in Eric and his vision for C.N.R.I. That was one of the reasons she had chosen to work there instead of any number of law firms in Starling City geared towards helping the less-wealthy citizens. Gitter said nothing, just watched her with an oddly intent expression, as though he were _excited_ about what was happening.

"Yes, Miss Lance," Hunt said calmly, smiling at her fear and outrage. "Mr. Gitter has been bought and paid for practically since the beginning. After all, what better way to trap the desperate than to give them hope that they can defeat the system? C.N.R.I. has served myself and my associates very well. But it's time is coming to an end, so you'll be the last young lawyer who loses their life in the fruitless attempt to… ah, what's that quaint phrase? Ah, yes, 'bring me to justice'." Hunt turned to his men. "Let's get this over with."

**_*DC*_ **

Oliver had approached the end of the dock using the shadows to hide himself. Aside from Hunt and Gitter, there were a total of four other men on the docks, all of them trained bodyguards. Oliver's helmet was still on to conceal his identity for the time being, and he slipped a pair of knives coated with the paralytic derived from tetrodotoxin into his hands. Oliver threw the blades, one at a time, at the bodyguards, striking them in the arms. Cries of pain ripped from their throats at the unexpected attack, and the other two men pulled their weapons. Oliver, still in the shadows, unholstered his A.R.G.U.S. issue weapon and fired center-mass, striking both men in their standard Kevlar vests and sending them careening into Starling Bay. The sound of the shots echoed across the water, which is precisely what Oliver had wanted.

Oliver stepped from the shadows, the dim light from the dock lamps mounted on posts above them glinting off the sleek black helmet he wore as he approached Hunt, Gitter, and the bound Laurel, whose sobs of fear slowly transformed to sobs of relief. Hunt and Gitter were frozen stiff at the appearance of Oliver's black-clad, seemingly faceless form wielding an advanced pistol. Oliver had taken the liberty of finding a voice modulator and activating it on his silent approach to the end of the dock so that when he spoke, it was in the harsh, modulated tones that the criminals of this city would soon come to fear. " **Adam Hunt, Eric Gitter, you have _failed_ this city,**" Oliver snarled, his harsh voice made harsher and more threatening by the modulator. " **Back away from her. Now.** "

Neither Hunt nor Gitter were stupid enough to disobey a man pointing a gun at them, especially since two of their guards were barely treading water and the other two seemed to be slowly losing control over their bodies' functions. They backed away from Laurel as Oliver approached, his gun's laser sight right over Hunt's heart. He stopped beside Laurel and stooped down, one hand keeping the gun trained on Hunt while the other retrieved a military-issue knife kept in a sheath on the back of his waistband and cut the bindings around first Laurel's wrists, then her elbows. He set the knife down for her to cut herself free the rest of the way before returning to a standing position. " **I want to know about Tempest, Hunt,** " Oliver said. He knew Malcolm would find a way to get to Hunt and he wanted the Dark Archer to feel dread when he learned about the mysterious figure who had taken Hunt down.

"T-Tempest?" Hunt asked nervously. "I-I don't know w-what-"

Oliver lowered his weapon slightly so the laser sight highlighted Hunt's kneecap and fired. Blood spattered the deck and Hunt screamed in agony as he fell onto his back on the dock, one hand clutching the bloody remnants of his knee. A.R.G.U.S. liked their weapons to pack a punch. " **Tempest,** " Oliver repeated. " **The criminal cabal that protects filth like you and ensures you maintain your wealth and power. Tell me what you know.** "

"I never met any of them, I swear!" Hunt screamed. "Some psycho in black leather would show up and threaten me, my daughter, everything I worked for! If I did what they told me to do, I was safe! That's all I know, I swear! I swear!" Hunt descended into little more than blubbering, and Oliver realized he wasn't going to get anything more out of the millionaire bottom-feeder.

He turned the laser sight on Gitter next. Predictably, the head of C.N.R.I. collapsed to his knees on his own. "Please," Gitter sobbed. "Don't kill me. All I did was take the money. That's all I did, I swear… That's all I did, I swear…"

"Bullshit!" came the fiery tones of an opinionated young lawyer, who ignored the flickers of pain from the slivers of wood stabbing the soles of her feet as she came to stand beside her black-clad rescuer. "You're the _only_ person with access to personnel files at C.N.R.I.! You're the _only_ person who could've given this bastard the information he needed to attack me in my own home!" Laurel strode forward just a little, ignoring Oliver's modulated call of caution, and gave Gitter a firm right hook with enough force that he fell sideways, catching himself with his hands and whimpering as slivers of wood embedded themselves into his palms.

" **Feel better?** " Oliver quipped.

"Hardly," Laurel scoffed, her eyes still flaming with something akin to hatred as she glowered at Hunt and Gitter. "I won't _feel better_ until these two vultures are serving sentences at Iron Heights or Slabside!"

" **Not even a judge as corrupt as Joseph Grell can ignore this,** " Oliver rumbled. " **They'll get their reward.** "

**_*DC*_ **

Laurel turned to face her mysterious rescuer, the relief at having been saved giving way to curiosity but, oddly enough, not fear. Whoever this man was, whatever his interest in Hunt and this 'Tempest', Laurel instinctively felt that she was safe with him, that he would never hurt her. She didn't understand _why_ she felt this way, just that she did. "Who are you?" she asked.

" **A friend,** " was the only reply she received. Her rescuer was busy intimidating Gitter further by moving the red laser sight onto various parts of his body, his attitude supremely unconcerned when it came to the moaning of Hunt. In the distance, sirens wailed, getting closer with every passing minute.

"Why did you help me?" The figure stood there, tilting his head as he looked at her. "There are hundreds of people who need help in this city. Did you help me just because I was on the news?" Still no answer. "Please, say something." The rumble of engines could be heard, the flashing lights atop police squad cars visible at the other end of the dock, dark-clad figures rushing down it. Her rescuer turned to look at the figures of the uniformed officers, looked down at the blubbering Hunt and gibbering Gitter, and then finally back at her.

" **We'll meet again, Laurel,** " was all her rescuer said before holstering his weapon and surprising she and the two downed men by leaping into the bay, disappearing beneath the black surface as the police finally made it to the end of the pier.

**_*DC*_ **

A half an hour later, Laurel was on a stretcher being wheeled into Starling General, her father rushing through the doors after her, having been called by Hilton from the scene at the docks to tell him Laurel was safe and on her way to the hospital. "Laurel, baby!" Quentin half-sobbed in relief as he saw his daughter, pale and a bit shaky but still alive, still breathing, laying on the stretcher as it was wheeled into a room. He was forced to wait outside as Laurel was given a hospital gown, her clothing placed in a plastic bag, and tucked into the hospital bed. Once he was cleared to go inside, Quentin didn't waste any time in pulling his daughter into a hug. She clung to him, the remaining anxiety, fear, and hopelessness she had felt while waiting to be killed by Hunt finally fleeing her body. Laurel soaked her father's shoulder with her tears of relief, Quentin's own tears soaking into his daughter's hair. "I'm right here, baby, I'm right here," Quentin said.

The two Lances held onto one another, each just basking in each other's presence, both having believed that they would never see each other again thanks to the corruption at work in their city. Throughout his search for his daughter, stonewalled as it had been by his superiors, Quentin's mind had been inundated with images of his daughter from the time she was a tiny babe sleeping soundly in his arms to just a few days ago, when a teary-eyed Laurel had been hugging him and telling him about Oliver's belief Sara might still be alive somewhere in the world. Their reunion was soon interrupted by Hilton and Pike, who needed to ask Laurel about her abduction and her mysterious rescuer.

Getting through the abduction was difficult, but her father's arm around her shoulders helped Laurel get through it. Talking about being held in the tenement, the fear, despair and hopelessness she had felt as she realized no one cared enough to call for help, and the realization while being transported to the docks that she didn't want to die but knowing it was inevitable was worse, and she had to stop more than once as her throat closed up. She could feel her father's body shuddering beside her as he wept for what she had gone through, no doubt blaming himself and she forced herself to remain strong, for both him and for herself. Finally, the topic turned to her rescuer.

"He was dressed all in black," Laurel said. "He kept his helmet on, and I don't think I've ever seen the model of gun he was using. It had a laser sight, and the way it tore into Hunt's knee… I've never seen a gun that powerful."

"The bullet was still lodged in Hunt's knee, we'll be running ballistics," Pike said. "Sounds like a special order. That'll make it easier to track." Pike's expression softened. "Take your time, Laurel," he said.

"He wanted to know about something he called Tempest," Laurel said. "He said they were some cabal that protected Hunt and other people like him."

"Sounds like he's insane," Quentin couldn't help but quip.

"That's just it, Daddy," Laurel said. "Hunt said he never spoke to this Tempest, but someone _did_ threaten him and his daughter to do things for them."

"Was this before or after this helmet guy shot him?" Hilton asked.

"After," Laurel replied after a moment.

"Hunt was probably just saying whatever he felt would keep this guy from shooting him again, Laurel," Pike said kindly. After a moment, Laurel nodded. "Anything else?"

"No," Laurel said, her mind going to the mysterious figure telling her they would meet again. "He dived into the water when your guys pulled up."

"Thanks, Laurel," Hilton said, patting her shoulder. "You get better, ya hear?"

"I will," Laurel said, smiling. "Goodbye, Lucas." Hilton had been a part of her life since her teen years, when her father first made the Major Case Unit.

**_*DC*_ **

Oliver entered the Queen Mansion in a pair of casual slacks and a sweater that he had liberated from the A.R.G.U.S. supply depot. Thea had been coming down the stairs and stopped dead in her tracks at the sight of her brother. Oliver waved at her and continued into the sitting room, where his mother and Walter were sitting by the fireplace. Both looked up in shock at seeing him, having heard about his escape from the private ambulance transporting him to Sherwood Acres, a private psychiatric hospital that catered to the elite from Starling City, Central City, and Coast City. "Evening," Oliver said evenly, pouring himself a neat bourbon and sipping it. "I'm sure Sherwood has told you they won't be admitting me after all, and neither will any other psychiatric facility you try to force me into."

"Yes, I'm curious as to how you managed that, Oliver," Moira said, Walter watching his wife and stepson with concern. He had personally thought Moira was overreacting to Oliver's attitude shift following Laurel's abduction.

"And you'll continue to be curious," Oliver replied. "Perhaps next time you'll think twice about interfering with my affairs. But on the off chance you don't… Well, let's just say there's a lot of skeletons in our family closet. Skeletons I will drag out into the light of day."

"This is why I called Sherwood," Moira said. "You've lost touch with reality, Oliver." Thea was at the doorway, looking between her mother and her brother in fright. She hadn't just heard about her mother had had her brother ambushed in his room earlier today; her friends had sent her a link to a YouTube video of her brother owning those who had been transporting him and escaping their custody. Her brother, who she remembered being so gentle and afraid of conflict (unless he was drunk and a paparazzi was around), had delivered what the comments section called punishing blows to his captors before walking away calmly, without a care in the world.

"Henry Goodwin," Oliver said calmly. The blood drained from Moira's face and the book she had been holding in her hand wavered before falling to the floor. "Still think I've lost touch with reality, Mom? Goodwin is just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to what I know." Oliver smiled. "Now, I think the best idea would be for us to use some of our family's influence to speed up the resurrection process. After that, I believe I'll be searching for accommodations in the city. I've spent five years away from people. The last thing I want to do is become a secluded psychopath, living all the way out here, away from the people who make Starling City what it is." Oliver left without another word; Moira was still white with shock, Walter by her side with a look of concern and mounting suspicion on his face, and Thea leaning against the wall and wondering just what that island had turned her brother into. And who the _hell_ was Henry Goodwin?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter. 
> 
> Chapter Notes:
> 
> *1* When I’ve been in the emergency room in the past and they’ve given me a sedative, I’ve been able to fight past it. If someone like me can do that, then someone trained by Talia al Ghul certainly can.
> 
> *2* So, as one can see, Oliver isn’t willing to let Laurel die again but he’s afraid of trying to be more than friends or even acquaintances with her, both because of the habit of his enemies to find out who he is and use those he loves against him, and because he doesn’t feel deserving of any love. So the Lauriver stuff might take a bit to take off, but it will come.
> 
> *3* This particular scene was hard to write, as I recall, because Laurel is, at that moment, consigned to her fate and not knowing Oliver is on his way to save her. I tried to capture the sense of hopelessness and fear she would’ve been feeling.


	6. Green Arrow

Dinah Laurel Lance stood in front of the gym and checked the address that her friend, Joanna de la Vega, had given to her when she talked about looking for somewhere to train up in self-defense. She had been thinking more Tae-Kwon-Do or something like that, but in the end, boxing would be a good place to start and it would be easier to master. Such were Laurel’s thoughts, anyways, as she entered the gym and looked around. She tapped a twitchy-looking Hispanic man who was pummeling a punching bag with an ugly look on his face on the shoulder. He turned. “What?” he asked snappishly. 

“Uh, I’m looking for the gym’s owner,” she said, feeling a little self-conscious as the man eyed her up and down. She could practically feel his contempt, as though he thought that she didn’t belong there. She raised her chin a bit, a defiant look in her green eyes, and he tilted his head, the slight widening of his eyes the only sign that her silent stand for her right to be here had impressed him. “A friend of mine referred me here.” 

“Ted’s over there,” the Hispanic guy said after a moment. “He’s a good guy. Not sure he’ll take you on. You’re clearly not from the Glades.” 

“No, but I do work here,” Laurel replied, before holding out her hand. “Laurel Lance. I work at C.N.R.I.” 

“Rene Ramirez,” her antagonistic greeter replied after a moment. “Heard the guy running C.N.R.I. was a crooked bastard.” 

“Yeah,” Laurel replied. “He and Hunt were trying to kill me. If it hadn’t been for some guy who showed up and stopped them…” Laurel shivered. “I don’t _ever_ want to be that helpless again.” 

Rene sighed. “Come on,” he said. “I’ll introduce you to Ted. I can’t fault anybody for wanting to keep themselves safe, especially if they’re brave enough to work in the Glades.” 

**_*DC*_ **

Oliver Queen splashed cold water on his face from the bathroom tap and proceeded to dry his features with a nearby towel. Oliver exited the bathroom and entered his new bedroom, quickly dressing in the suit that he had laid out earlier. Oliver headed downstairs from the second floor of the loft (the same one that Thea had purchased with Merlyn’s blood fortune after returning from Corto Maltese) and went directly to the kitchen, pouring a cup of coffee and adding the tiniest bit of cream and sugar. The past few days had been quite busy. The day following his rescue of Laurel, the Queen name and influence had been wielded to rush the hearing to _officially_ bring him back from the dead and Oliver had sought out a realtor. Finding that the loft was available had made it the easy choice, and then it was just a matter of furnishing it. 

Finally, John Diggle had decided to stay on despite his reservations regarding Oliver’s alliance with Amanda Waller. Diggle was clear-headed enough to see Oliver had set up the situation so he got what he needed from Waller without any special strings attached and no matter which way things went, Waller would win something she dearly wanted. Diggle had admitted he didn’t know whether to be worried or impressed by how easily Oliver had played Waller. Oliver had asked him, rather grimly, if he really thought he had been the one playing Waller. 

Diggle hadn’t reported in for the day just yet, and so Oliver was alone with his thoughts of the events that had unfolded the day he had been forced to escape from the Sherwood Acres private ambulance. The incident with Laurel, Hunt, and Gitter had been a wake-up call for Oliver when it came to just how much an impact could be made on the timeline from even the simplest of choices. It had chilled his blood to realize that, had his plan proceeded as he intended in the last timeline and he _hadn’t_ started immediately following the kidnapping, then Laurel would’ve been murdered by Hunt in the previous timeline and _no one_ would have known who was responsible because she would’ve simply _disappeared_. The reality that the life of the woman he loved had been saved by the sheer coincidence of him moving up his plans and going after Hunt had had a sobering effect on the plans he had been setting in motion since his return to the past. **_*1*_**

How many more little things could change if he kept on waiting to reveal the Green Arrow to Starling City? How many more lives had he impacted without knowing it? A memory of Curtis came to him, a memory from a time when they were struggling to come up with a way to get back in the fight against Darhk, who had decided to burn the entire world with him and his daughter still in it because of Ruve’s death at the hands of Anarky. “ _Look,_ _living in Star City requires a special kind of tenacity. A sane person wouldn’t live here. It’s a fact that Paul likes to remind me of weekly. We were this close to leaving Star City last October. After three terrorist attacks, we were done. But then, the night before we were going to start packing, the Green Arrow popped up on our TV, and he reminded me that this city is worth saving, that my home-that my home was worth fighting for. That guy gave me inspiration. He gave me hope. And if he could give me hope then, why can’t he give it to others now?_ ” 

Curtis had been referring to when Felicity had hijacked the emergency broadcast system for Oliver to address the city and declare his intention to pick up where the Arrow had left off as the Green Arrow. That had been the _simplest_ thing he had ever done, a simple declaration of intent, but he knew it had inspired not only Curtis, but Jessica Danforth, who had decided to run for mayor before Darhk had hired the man who would become Anarky, Lonnie Meacham, to force her into backtracking. Oliver knew, from talking with Laurel later on, that his speech after the defeat of Brickwell when he returned from fighting Ra’s had likewise inspired others. Mere speeches had inspired hope in others, and his actions, he now knew, could’ve impacted any number of lives. 

Which reminded him… there was a whole host of people who he had helped when he had taken down Hunt the last time, people who _hadn’t_ received the anonymous deposit in their bank account, taken from Hunt’s ill-gotten gains. Tonight, he would correct that. 

**_*DC*_ **

Walter Steele was seated behind his desk when a young woman with hair streaked blonde and dark brown tied back in a ponytail opened the door halfway, knocking slightly on the glass to get his attention. “Mr. Steele?” she asked, looking like she wasn’t sure if she needed to be nervous or express confidence. “You asked to see me?” 

“Ah, yes, Miss Smoak, please, come in,” Walter replied. Felicity Smoak, whom he had hired personally shortly after her graduation from M.I.T., entered the office fully, letting the door slide shut behind her. “I called you here for two reasons. The first is that, as I’m sure you’re aware, Oliver has recently been returned to us. But he has spent five years away from all the advancements and needs a guide to help him acclimate to modern technology.” 

“I can do that,” Felicity said slowly. “What’s the second?” 

“I need you to go digging into our files from five years ago and flag _anything_ that might have resulted in outside parties having a vested interest in anything Robert Queen might have told Oliver while en route to China,” Walter said. “Once you’ve compiled that listing, please deliver it to me. This must be done _discreetly_ , Miss Smoak. I’m asking you because I know with a certainty that if there was anything like that, you weren’t involved in it.” 

“I’ll be careful, Mr. Steele,” Felicity promised. “And, uh, do I go to the Queen Mansion to talk to Mr. Queen or is he coming to see me or are we meeting for coffee? Not that I’m trying to hit on him! I mean, he’s _Oliver Queen_ and I’m, well, me.” She flushed as Walter gave her a mild look of rebuke. She really needed to work on that damn brain-mouth filter thing! 

“Oliver has decided to move out of the Queen Mansion,” Walter finally said, writing out the address on a legal pad and ripping the sheet off, handing it to Felicity, who took it gingerly. “I suggest calling ahead. Oliver is… rather abrupt and does not take well to surprises.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Felicity promised and left after Walter waved off further conversation (or babbling in her case). 

**_*DC*_ **

Malcolm Merlyn stood looking out over Starling City from the penthouse office in his skyscraper, musing to himself over the events of a few nights ago. Laurel Lance’s death had been all but assured; everyone was well-paid to ignore the things Adam Hunt and other men like him did. It helped keep the animals under control and keep them corralled where he wanted them. The last thing he wanted was any of the criminal filth like the man who had killed his dear Rebecca branching out into the rest of the city. If a few lawyers had to die here or there, then so be it, so long as those with rotted morality stayed in their rightful place, that being ground beneath his heel and, once the Undertaking had cleansed the Glades of its corruption, being the foundation for the beautiful, pristine society that would replace their decadence. All had been going according to plan, but now something had changed. Someone had interfered, someone had pushed beyond their rightful place, _someone_ had saved Laurel Lance’s life and ensnared Hunt and Gitter. 

The police were referring to the suspect as ‘the man in black’. The knives pulled from the bodyguards on the docks had been tested. It was an unknown derivative of tetrodotoxin that served as a fast-acting paralytic. Merlyn already had his own scientists working to reverse-engineer it, having secured one of the knives through his contacts in the Starling City Police Department. Such a toxin would certainly be useful for a man of his talents, especially if he wanted to keep certain individuals quiet and incapable of fighting back while he ensured they were no longer a problem. Their deaths would then be blamed on this ‘man in black’. It was rather ironic that this man could then take the blame for his own crimes as Al Sa-Her if he played his cards right. 

The second bit of evidence from the docks was more troubling, though. The bullet that had been put into Hunt’s knee had been run through the system only to come back with a warning that they were poking into classified material and the files on the investigation had been seized, presumably by the A.T.F. But something about all of this didn’t feel right to Merlyn. The A.T.F. generally dealt with militant cults or self-proclaimed militias alongside the F.B.I. Merlyn had reached out to his contacts from his days with the League of Assassins (he rarely used them since he wanted to keep Ra’s al Ghul from discovering _just_ what he had been doing here for nearly twenty years) and discovered that it wasn’t the A.T.F. or the F.B.I. that had shut the investigation down and confiscated the evidence. 

It had been the so-called ‘think tank’, A.R.G.U.S. Merlyn had managed to stay below the radar of A.R.G.U.S. for years, no easy feat when you considered he had been slowly criminalizing the Glades and turning it into a cesspit of crime and despair where no good person would want to live. Even now, he was planning to further consolidate the criminality and corruption in the Glades ahead of the Undertaking by ensuring the shutdown of C.N.R.I. (the corruptive influence of Eric Gitter could actually be of use there); all he needed to do was take a luncheon and engage in some small talk with one of his long-time business associates, Simon Stagg during an upcoming trip to Central City where he would be making another donation to S.T.A.R. Labs and their Particle Accelerator project. 

Tempest would also be securing weapons for the gangs via Leo Mueller that would force the S.C.P.D. to shutter their precinct in the Glades due to being outgunned. After that, the only thing left to do would be to close Rebecca’s clinic and then there would be no more good people left in the Glades, and once that was done, he would need to visit Doug Miller as his alter ego. Miller was the head of Applied Sciences at Queen Consolidated and he would be the one to weaponize the Markov Device once Queen Consolidated had secured Unidac Industries. Everything was finally coming together, and now this! Some vigilante, a vigilante who had a powerful, covert government operation cleaning up what little mess he left that could trace back to him. 

Meanwhile, Merlyn had his own messes to clean up. Not only had Hunt been _talking_ about the black-clad archer that threatened him to the police, but there was every chance the man had evidence in his system that could be _damaging_ to Tempest. There was also the fact that the man in black had questioned Hunt about Tempest in front of Laurel Lance. If there was one thing to be said about that family, it was that they were tenacious. Quentin Lance was like a dog with a bone when he picked up a scent on an investigation, and his eldest daughter was no different. Dinah Lance, Quentin’s estranged wife, had been squandering her inheritance in a vain search for any signs of her daughter, Sara, despite having had five years of no hope. Even Sara Lance had been tenacious in her own way, partying her way through college and sleeping with everything on two legs by all accounts. Merlyn had decided he would monitor the situation with Quentin and Laurel Lance carefully; if they began to uncover evidence that pointed to Tempest, well… Merlyn had killed his own best friend. A drunken cop and his self-righteous daughter would hardly be difficult. 

“Mr. Merlyn,” his secretary said from the door. “Your ten o’clock is here.” 

“Thank you, Marie,” Merlyn replied, turning as a tall, wiry man with close-cropped black hair entered. “Mr. Drakon, thank you for coming to see me on such short notice. I have a job for you, one that requires a delicate touch, but will be quite rewarding if you pull it off.” Merlyn gestured to the chair in front of his desk, and Constantin Drakon sat down, Merlyn taking his own seat moments later. He despised having to send mercenaries like Drakon to do the dirty work, but if a surveillance camera caught his alter ego and Ra’s al Ghul found out about it, well… that would not be pleasant, for Merlyn _or_ for Tommy, as the League’s code dictated that the entire bloodline of those who broke their code were subject to its archaic edicts. So, for his son, Merlyn would deal with the likes of Constantin Drakon. 

**_*DC*_ **

Oliver entered the A.R.G.U.S. base that Waller had given him to make use of, Diggle trailing behind him and examining the area carefully. There was already another man waiting for them, someone Oliver had selected from the A.R.G.U.S. dossiers: Henry Fyff, a genius with computers and coding who A.R.G.U.S. had picked up because he couldn’t help but leave what passed for a dramatic signature while informing various government agencies of exactly what they had done wrong in their programming (and doing so in the most insulting, anti-establishment fashion possible). Henry had basically been an indentured servant to A.R.G.U.S. for almost seven years now, and if the way he was relaxing in the comfortable leather roller-chair perched behind the computers was any indication, Henry was very much enjoying not being directly under the thumb of Amanda Waller. 

“Mr. Fyff, glad to see you’re acclimating well to your new surroundings,” Oliver said, startling the dark-haired man, who jerked in shock at being spoken to so suddenly and caused his chair to roll back too fast, upending him with a startled yelp. Oliver quirked an eyebrow at this little twist and looked down at the man. “I really hope you’re a bit more security conscious in the future, Mr. Fyff. We may not be running this by the A.R.G.U.S. playbook, but that doesn’t mean you can ignore potential threats. We’re going to be upsetting some very powerful people, and if they trace us back here, they’re not going to be nice.” 

“No one is gonna trace us back here,” Fyff replied with confidence that bordered on arrogance. “The only way we get traced if you’re dumb enough to let yourself get tagged with some tracker.” Fyff’s eyes went to Diggle. “Who’s the living boulder?” 

“This is John Diggle,” Oliver introduced. “Dig, this is Henry Fyff. Our computer specialist… for now.” Oliver’s eyes narrowed. “Let me be clear about something, Mr. Fyff. If your ego causes you to underestimate a target, or you cause either myself or Mr. Diggle to come to harm through your arrogant assumptions that you are the only one who can do this job… I’ll send you back to Waller and inform her she needs to find someone _better_. Understood?” 

“Yes,” Fyff croaked out and wondering if Waller had just fucked him over yet again. How the hell had this become his life? Oh, right, he got himself caught because of his own ego and his need to show how much more intelligent he was than the government stooges that handled programming government systems. 

“Good,” Oliver said, shedding his suit jacket and turning to the mannequin where his uniform had been mounted. “Bring up everything you can on the building housing Hunt International. I have one last issue to deal with regarding Mr. Hunt before we move on to _other_ problems in this city.” 

**_*DC*_ **

The elevator doors slid closed behind Green Arrow as he entered the hallway leading to Adam Hunt’s office on the top floor of Hunt International. “ **I’m in,** ” Green Arrow informed Fyff and Diggle back at the safehouse. “ **No alarms so far.** ” 

“That’s because we’re not the first ones to get into the system,” Fyff said over the comms. “Someone else is already there, keeping the alarms from going off. You’ve got company, Green Arrow.” 

“ **Understood,** ” Green Arrow replied, nocking a specific arrow and moving forward. He could see a single shadow moving about in Hunt’s office. Green Arrow fired the arrow through the glass, which cracked and shattered. The arrow landed at an angle and the device attached to the arrowhead activated. It was a sleeker version of an idea Felicity had proposed during the fight with H.I.V.E. when they were looking for more non-lethal options: a magnetic arrow that would strip their enemies of their weapons, leaving the Ghosts and anyone else it was used against to rely on their hand-to-hand skills. Green Arrow rushed through the door as a gun and several knives flew down and made a circle around the magnetic arrow before it deactivated (it had a short lifespan, just long enough to render the enemy weaponless). 

“ **Constantin Drakon,** ” Green Arrow reflected as he took in the man’s appearance. He had committed to memory the name of every person he killed after swearing his oath in Tommy’s memory, something he had forgotten following his mother’s death and the downward spiral between the Siege and Sara’s murder. “ **I’ll give you one chance to leave.** ” 

“Sorry, pal, but I don’t abandon a job just cuz some nutbar in a green hood pops up,” Drakon replied, retrieving a pair of brass knuckles from his coat pockets, where the magnetic arrow wouldn’t have been able to pull them from (Drakon’s knives had been on his belt from the looks of things). “What are you supposed to be, some kinda Robin Hood?” 

“ **Something like that,** ” Green Arrow replied, having long since reconciled with himself that yes, during his first year doing this, he had essentially been Robin Hood. Green Arrow fired his weapon, but Drakon was already moving, dodging the arrow that had been fired and never realizing the arrow in question was never intended for him. While Green Arrow moved to engage Drakon, Henry Fyff used the arrow to boost their connection to Hunt’s network and do what Green Arrow had instructed him to do: empty Hunt’s entire fortune into a specified bank account, from which they would transfer pre-determined amounts to those victimized by Hunt’s schemes over the past five years. 

Green Arrow dodged one of Drakon’s punches and blocked the second with his bow before launching a front kick, catching Drakon in the stomach and disorienting him for a moment. Green Arrow pressed his advantage, ducking into a roll as Drakon swung wildly and coming up into a kneeling position behind the mercenary, whom he fired a basic arrow at. The basic lethal arrow sliced its way through Drakon’s right calf and out between his shin-bones. Drakon couldn’t help the small cry of agony that the pain provoked and then Green Arrow kicked him in the back, sending him sprawling to the ground before firing an entrapment arrow, like those he had used on the bags the Royal Flush Gang had been carrying their haul in, to keep Drakon locked down. “ **How’s it coming?** ” Green Arrow asked via the comms. **_*2*_**

“Already done, boss,” Fyff replied. 

“ **Good,** ” Green Arrow replied. “ **Send an anonymous tip to the S.C.P.D. about an intruder at Hunt International. I’m on my way back.** ” Green Arrow listened to Fyff’s affirmative reply as he stepped past the prone, albeit struggling, Drakon and moved towards the shattered glass that had been the entrance to Hunt’s office. 

“Who the _hell_ are you?” Drakon snarled from where he was pinned to the floor by the cords. 

The archer turned back, staring at him from beneath the hood that shadowed his features. “ **Green Arrow,** ” he replied and then turned back, returning to the elevator. Once the doors closed, he opened up the hatch in the roof of the elevator and made his way to the roof of the building itself. There, Green Arrow fired a jettisoning arrow down to a nearby roof and descended, using his bow to zipline down the cable. “ **There is one more thing we have to do before this night can end,** ” the Emerald Archer informed Fyff via the comms. 

“What?”

**_*DC*_ **

Laurel Lance curled up on her couch, turning the television to the nightly news, a mug of hot cocoa cocooned in her hands. Today had been a day of changes; she had met Ted Grant and arranged for private, one-on-one lessons three times a week. C.N.R.I. was still reeling from the revelation of Eric’s corruption and there was an investigation into what cases had been compromised by the bastard. Finally, while it may not have been a big deal to others, Laurel had decided to dye her hair back to its original honey blonde rather than let it come back naturally. She had always told herself and everyone around her that she had dyed her hair brown because no one would take a blonde female attorney seriously and she wanted to be taken seriously; but, if she was being honest, she had also done it because Sara had gloried in the stereotypes of being blonde and Laurel had wanted to distance herself from her sister at the time. 

But something about what Oliver had said about C.N.R.I. and how it seemed Sara had always been with her had made her think and, after her experience at the docks, she realized she wanted to live a little and stop hiding who she was. Moreover, she _wanted_ to beat smug bastards like Eric, Hunt, and all the rest in the courtroom and let them see they had been beaten by a woman who defied the stereotypes of blondes. She had chuckled as she realized Sara would’ve told her to go for it and rub it in their damn faces. 

Laurel’s thoughts were pulled from her reminiscing about the day when her television made an awful, high-pitched sound she recognized as the city’s emergency broadcast signal. She straightened, wondering what could’ve gone wrong now, and then pulled in her chin in consternation as the screen cleared and revealed a man standing in shadows, dressed in a green uniform with a hood covering his features, a quiver on his back and a bow clutched in one hand. “ **For too long, this city has lived in fear and darkness,** ” the mysterious archer on the screen said, and Laurel felt her breath catch in her throat, because she recognized that modulated voice. It was the man from the pier, the man who had saved her, but why was he dressed like _that_? “ **It is being ruled from the shadows by a criminal elite who do not care who they hurt, so long as they maintain their wealth and power. They do not care about the children who suffer for days without food. They do not care about those who die because of faulty wiring in their buildings. They do not care about those who suffer mentally, physically, and emotionally from the lives they are forced to lead because of these ‘chosen few’, these men and women who hold themselves above the law. These criminals who dare to name themselves _upstanding citizens_ of Starling City. **

“ **Yet in all this darkness, despair, and fear, there lives a spark of hope. I know there are people in this city who, like me, believe that while life is filled with darkness, that darkness can be defeated by the light. _Hope_ is that light. Hope for a better tomorrow, a future where our children can play in our streets without fearing being kidnapped, where women can walk down our sidewalks without fearing assault, where families can grow and learn and make this city shine like a beacon of hope to the world. **

“ **Tonight, I am declaring my intention to stand with these people, to fight for this city, to be the symbol of hope it needs in its darkest hour. If the police, the District Attorney, and the courts will not see justice done, _I_ will. And to the architect of this age of darkness and despair, I say this: your Undertaking will fail. Your Tempest will be broken. And you will face justice for _all_ the lives that you have destroyed in your madness. I am coming for you. I am the Green Arrow.**” The archer fired an arrow, and the screen went black. 

Laurel numbly turned off her television and unsteadily set her mug down on the coffee table. She felt as though her mysterious savior, this _Green Arrow_ , had reached deep down inside of her soul and given voice to the forbidden thoughts that had percolated within her for years as she fought against the crime and corruption only to be rebuffed again and again. Now she understood why Green Arrow had saved her on the docks. They were the same; they wanted the same things. They wanted to see their city saved, they wanted the people to _hope_ and to live again instead of merely _existing_. 

She knew what her father would say. “ _You don’t need to go outside of the law to find justice_.” But that old jingle of her dad’s seemed to fall flat after her experience on the docks with Hunt, Gitter, and the Green Arrow. She wanted that future the Green Arrow spoke of. Her terrifying experiences while held prisoner in the Glades by Hunt’s men had forced her to really think about the life she wanted. Yes, she wanted to help the people in Starling City, but she also wanted to have a _life_ for herself, with a man that she loved and children that they both adored. But how could she grasp that future with both hands and bring it into being? **_*3*_**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter. 
> 
> Chapter Notes:
> 
> *1* Maybe I’m alone in this, but I feel the great majority of time travel fanfiction fails to really explore the impact even simple choices can have on the timeline. A lot of it seems to consist of ‘Hero conquers Storyline A, so Storyline B is moved up by X amount of time’ and that’s about it. Don’t get me wrong; people love those stories. I love those stories. But for me, I’m always looking to challenge myself and the status quo.
> 
> *2* Constantin Drakon, a recurring villain who has tangled with both Green Arrow and Black Canary in the comics, was relegated to a one-off, hardly-mentioned bad guy in the pilot episode of “Arrow”. Maybe that should’ve been a sign that they never intended to follow through on being even semi-faithful to the source material.
> 
> *3* Writing Oliver giving inspiring speeches is part of the fun I have in writing fan fiction. And now Laurel is on her way towards becoming Black Canary for very different reasons than she had in Season 3. 


	7. Promotion

Malcolm Merlyn stood in the ‘panic room’ in his office where he hid the gear that he made use of as Al Sa-Her, watching the broadcast interruption by the Green Arrow (now a video with numerous hits on YouTube) over and over, committing everything he could about the interloper to memory. His speech, the way he held himself, the flippant attitude with which he had addressed Malcolm as ‘the architect of this age of darkness and despair’… all of it needed to be examined, weighed, and considered as Malcolm assessed the threat level this ‘Green Arrow’ posed to the Undertaking. 

While the security system at Hunt International had been ‘down’, Malcolm’s agents had been keeping an eye on the brief fight between Drakon and this Green Arrow and provided Malcolm with a copy of the security recording. Green Arrow’s fighting style was reminiscent of the League of Assassins, but there were elements of other training in his style, enough that it was unique to this person. Unique was good, because it narrowed down the list of suspects. All Malcolm needed was to find someone who exhibited those same tactics, and he would have Green Arrow’s identity. Though the League training was worrisome, the elements of other training implied that this Green Arrow was a student of someone who had left the League. There had been others before Malcolm, including the founder of H.I.V.E. and Ra’s’ own eldest daughter, Talia al Ghul. Of the two, H.I.V.E. had more potential and Malcolm could even potentially convince the League to take care of the Green Arrow for him if he could prove he had ties to H.I.V.E. 

Green Arrow was a legitimate archer based on the surveillance feed Malcolm had obtained from Hunt International, but he was also dedicated to keeping those he took down _alive_ , almost as though he were afraid to deliver the killing blow. Green Arrow was no doubt the same man the police called ‘the man in black’ (there was no way there were two interfering busybody vigilantes in this city without Malcolm knowing about it), and he had not only gone out of his way to keep Hunt, Gitter, and Hunt’s bodyguards alive (if maimed), but he had done the same to bring down Constantin Drakon non-lethally. He also depended a great deal on trick arrows to disorient, disarm, and bind his foes. 

Green Arrow’s flippant attitude suggested he was younger than 30. Only someone in their twenties with a zeal to change the world would address a foe as dangerous as Malcolm could be in so flippant a matter. The arrogance of youth and the belief in one’s own immortality was common in twenty-somethings, who not only took to the streets in massive protests but also tended to engage in risky behaviors. Green Arrow was atypical in that he had the backing of A.R.G.U.S. and had the training to be a threat to Malcolm’s plans, but he still had that arrogance and belief in his own immortality, the fearlessness with which twenty-somethings took on the world. 

The way Green Arrow held himself was that of someone who had seen far too much of the world’s darker side, something that should’ve turned him into someone like Malcolm, someone that could be pointed in the direction of the real rot in Starling City. This was another reason that the Green Arrow had to be in his twenties. By the time one hit their thirties, most realized that humanity was not inherently good at its core and reacted accordingly. Green Arrow, on the other hand, still believed in the inherent good of humanity if his little speech was any indication. There was also an almost regal air reminiscent of what Malcolm remembered of Ra’s in the way the Green Arrow held himself as he spoke. More evidence that Green Arrow had received training from either Damien Darhk or Talia al Ghul, both of which had been Heirs to the Demon at one time. 

Finally, there was the speech itself. It was well-spoken, perfect dictation and enunciation, suggesting this was someone who was used to public speaking and knew how to effectively use words as a weapon. More importantly, it suggested the Green Arrow had received a quality education during either high school or university. Again, the ease with which the vigilante spoke in such a public fashion pointed to Green Arrow most likely having been an activist at one point. Perhaps one of those eco-terrorists, and A.R.G.U.S. had snatched him up and turned him into an asset? 

But clearly, A.R.G.U.S. didn’t know about Malcolm’s role in all of this, because if they did, they wouldn’t be backing this vigilante. They would just snatch Malcolm up and interrogate him before shoving him in a deep dark hole somewhere. Which suggested that while Green Arrow knew who he was, or at least that the head of Tempest was a powerful figure in Starling City, he wasn’t sharing this intelligence with A.R.G.U.S. Almost as though it were the vigilante calling the shots and not A.R.G.U.S. Curious. 

All in all, the appearance of the Green Arrow had changed things, and Malcolm would admit to being thrilled despite the irritation the Green Arrow’s interference so far had caused. It had been a long time since Malcolm had had a foe against which to match wits and skills. With the Undertaking only months away, having a foe against which to struggle would occupy Malcolm’s time. Countering this Green Arrow would be interesting, and Malcolm would have to find a way to learn about who in the civilian world was seemingly helping Green Arrow’s cause. Anyone countering what Malcolm set in motion in secret was potentially involved. **_*1*_**

**_*DC*_ **

Oliver Queen stared at the phone in his hand, having listened to the message that had been left on his voicemail. Hearing Felicity’s voice again had been hard, especially when the first thing that came up was the image that he had in his mind’s eye of Felicity standing by and watching as Nyssa trained Mia to become the damaged soul that their daughter had turned into. Even if he had tried to set Mia on the right path during their time together, he knew how hard it could be to pull away from that training. But he had forced himself to remember that _this_ Felicity was still the same, awkward, babbling woman he had met when he first came back, who still looked at the world through idealism rather than the cynicism of later years, cynicism she had gained because of her work with Oliver. 

The actual message was only mildly surprising. Walter had arranged for Felicity to be his tutor regarding modern technology and she had been calling to arrange a meeting between the two of them. Oliver knew that if this was the Felicity he had left behind with Mia, he would’ve brought her back into his crazy life, though not before they had words about what Felicity and Nyssa had done with Mia. But this wasn’t the Felicity he had fallen in love with and he had no desire to go through another seven years of what he and Felicity had gone through to reach a point where they had what they called a mutual respect. Which is to say, they ignored anything negative about their partner and refused to acknowledge any issues they had, like his issues at the time with Earth-2’s Laurel. It had taken working with that Laurel on his missions for The Monitor to help him see how similar she was to _his_ Laurel. 

Speaking of the Laurel he had known and grown up with, she had been out of the hospital for a few days and Oliver had held off on visiting her so as not to crowd her. Oliver had decided that he was going to go see her later today, make sure she was okay. No doubt she would’ve heard from Quentin how Oliver had been poking around the scene of the abduction (and no doubt Quentin would’ve been as unflattering as he could be), so she would know he had been worried and looking into it. He had avoided going to the hospital (at least as Oliver Queen) because he knew she would be released soon, and Quentin would’ve been staying close by just in case someone tried something after nearly losing her. Oliver had done the same, to be honest; he had been perched on a building across from the hospital for a good part of the night that Laurel had stayed there, keeping an eye on Laurel’s hospital room and making sure no one did anything to the machines or the I.V. He knew he was being overly paranoid, but the last time he had seen Laurel in the hospital, she had _died_ and a part of him couldn’t forget that. 

As to the situation with Felicity… he would inform her he had found someone else but thank her for her willingness to do this. That was the best he could do; he didn’t trust himself not to say something about her parenting skills if he was in her presence and that would either confuse her or let her figure out that he somehow had memories of the future. Felicity was the sort of person who would actually not dismiss that sort of theory. He would mourn the Felicity that he had known, but he wouldn’t put himself in a position to get close to this version of Felicity again. There had been far too much drama between them because of his methods and his willingness to do whatever was necessary. Even if he was abandoning some of those methods and no longer being willing to infiltrate groups like the Bratva and the League, when it came to those that he cared about being in danger, he knew his grip on his morality would slip. He had been very tempted to deal with Hunt and Gitter permanently on that dock. 

**_*DC*_ **

Laurel Lance had experienced a gamut of emotions in the past few days. From the fear and terror of being kidnapped and held for twenty-four hours before nearly being sent to a watery grave to the relief of being rescued to the amazement that she had felt as she listened to the Green Arrow’s speech on television, she was beginning to feel emotionally drained. That wasn’t even counting her father’s overprotectiveness being kicked into high gear. She had had a police presence outside of her apartment since she returned home, and while normally she would’ve chafed under the security detail, she welcomed it for once because she still woke in the night with terror in her heart, and being able to look out the window and see the police car sitting below was enough. Of course, that wasn’t the only sight that warmed her heart. She was sure she had spotted a green-clad figure on a rooftop opposite her building at least once. 

She had been wracking her brains trying to figure out if she knew who the Green Arrow was. That was the only possibility that explained why he had helped her, why he spoke her name so familiarly. Yet she knew no one in her life with the skills that the Green Arrow had displayed as his biker persona or that he presumably had with that bow of his. He definitely had a quality education like she did, so it was possible that he had attended Berlanti Preparatory with her or even an Ivy League school. She had briefly toyed with the idea that it might even be Oliver (he did have five years unaccounted for, after all), mainly because her father had told her about Oliver’s poking around the apartment and his off-hand comment about the fact that only Laurel’s family, close friends, and workplace knew where she lived thanks to the agreement between she and her father, an agreement that was still in place because she knew how dangerous Starling City could be and while she was no slouch in the self-defense department, she was still a single young woman living alone and she had been eyed appreciatively by disreputable types more than once during the course of her work at C.N.R.I.

There was also the fact that the man in black/the Green Arrow had come for _her_. There were plenty of lawyers who had fought against injustice, some even more prominently than she did. Why had he chosen to save her life if she was nobody to him? The way he had spoken, despite the voice modulator he was using, had suggested he had a familiarity with her. 

Despite this, she found she just couldn’t believe the man in black/the Green Arrow and Oliver Queen were the same person. Oliver was a good man, of that Laurel had no doubt. But she didn’t think he had it in him to so calmly shoot someone in the kneecap like the Green Arrow’s biker persona had done to Adam Hunt or mockingly trail the laser sight over vulnerable points of the body like he had done to Gitter. Oliver had come back from wherever he had been and kept to himself for the most part. The Green Arrow was someone who was deeply involved with Starling City, of that much Laurel was certain. The Green Arrow felt the city’s pain as though it were his own, and there simply wasn’t a way for that to be Oliver, who had spent five years on an island and had yet to experience the worst the city had to offer. 

She had heard of the incident at Hunt International and gotten calls from clients asking about a surprising bank balance. She had advised them to not tell anyone about it but make use of it, because they apparently had a guardian angel looking out for them. That night was the time she had seen the green-clad figure on the opposing rooftop. She hoped that one day the Green Arrow would speak to her again, as he had promised before dying into the bay to avoid entanglements with the police. 

Laurel knew that, as a lawyer, she shouldn’t be entertaining thoughts of becoming more deeply involved with the actions of a man who could only be considered a vigilante, taking the law into his own hands. But if the Green Arrow had been following the law, the last moments of her life would’ve been filled with terror as she slowly drowned in the depths of Starling Bay. Laurel couldn’t ignore that. She had always believed, like her father, that the law was sacred and that it needed to be protected. But what was the use of the law if it only protected men like Hunt and Gitter, and left the innocent defenseless against those with more wealth and power? 

Her training at Ted’s gym had opened her eyes to the level of suffering in the Glades, suffering that had at its heart an organization called Tempest, an organization headed by a singular individual that the Green Arrow had labeled the architect of this age of darkness and despair. Laurel’s lips quirked as she realized the Green Arrow had a flair for the dramatic. _A modern-day Robin Hood,_ she thought to herself with a smirk as she finished getting ready for the day. It was her first official day back at C.N.R.I., the first day the legal aid office had been open since the investigation into Gitter had begun. 

**_*DC*_ **

When Laurel arrived at C.N.R.I. she found most of her co-workers subdued, but they perked up a bit at seeing her. She smiled in greeting and said, “I know things have been hectic, everyone, but we need to pull it together. We can’t let what Eric was doing damage what we’re trying to do here.” 

“How do we come back from something like this?” Joanna asked her friend cautiously, knowing that out of all of them, Laurel would’ve been the one most affected by what Eric Gitter had done. Hell, if the rumor mill was true, Eric had been on the docks with Hunt waiting to see Laurel tied to a cement block and sent to the depths. Yet here she was, smiling and prepared to get back to it. “What Eric did is still being felt, Laurel.” 

“We come back from it by showing people we aren’t going to let what Eric did change who we are,” Laurel said. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I came to work here because someone reminded me that I became a lawyer to help people, not help those with power step on the throats of those without. What happened on the docks hasn’t broken me. It’s made my resolve even stronger. Joanna, how’s the prep for the Nocenti case going?” 

“Emily Nocenti is coming in today to talk to us,” Joanna said. “She might have some concerns about what happened with Eric and if that will affect her case.” 

“I’ve got a couple of people who have the same concerns,” one of the other lawyers said. 

“Send me their numbers and I’ll call and talk with them, make sure they know we’re still committed to getting justice for them,” Laurel said. “That goes for anyone who has clients who are concerned about how Eric’s corruption has impacted their cases.” Appreciative looks were shot towards Laurel while she headed for her desk. In between making calls to various clients to assure them that C.N.R.I. remained fully-committed to getting justice for them, Laurel was catching up on her own work and meeting with Emily Nocenti. As a result, she didn’t notice the talk that was going about the office until she got sideswiped with a whopper of a request by the rest of her co-workers. 

“You want me to _what_?” Laurel managed to croak out, staring at Joanna, who had been elected the spokesperson for the combined voice of the lawyers and legal aids working at C.N.R.I. 

“We want you to take over Eric’s position,” Joanna said softly. “What you did earlier, what you’ve been doing all day? We need people to see someone like _that_ at the head of this office if it’s going to survive the fallout from what Eric did. You don’t need to answer now, but soon. Because there’s already talk of backers pulling out.”

“I’ll have an answer for you by tomorrow,” Laurel promised. In her heart, she already knew what the answer would be. But she needed to call in some favors when she did take the position, something she hated doing because it made her seem so _political_. But she would be remiss if she didn’t use her connection to some very powerful people to get the word out that C.N.R.I. remained strong despite the corruption Eric Gitter had infected it with. **_*2*_**

**_*DC*_ **

Oliver knocked on the door in front of him, feeling a sense of relief when it opened and Laurel was standing on the other side, her hair back to its natural honey blonde color and her green eyes alight with curiosity and a spark of surprise. “Ollie,” she said warmly, stepping back, silently inviting him inside. He stepped inside and she swung the door shut behind him before reaching out and pulling him into a hug, surprising him. He returned the hug, surprised at the tremors shaking Laurel’s slight frame, before they pulled apart. Laurel wiped the tears from the sides of her eyes. “Sorry,” she apologized. “I’ve been able to keep up a strong appearance, but everything has been kind of…” 

“It’s alright, Laurel,” Oliver said, putting a hand on her shoulder. “I understand. What happened to you, what _nearly_ did happen, is horrific and I can’t imagine how you must be feeling.” 

“There are times I just want to curl up,” Laurel admitted softly. “I just want to turtle up and forget this ever happened, but I can’t, because every time I close my eyes, every time I hear a knock at the door, I feel fear well up inside of me. I wake up screaming, dreaming I’m back on the docks and my feet are being secured to a cement block. Sometimes I don’t wake up until I hit the water in these nightmares. I _hate_ this, Ollie. I hate feeling like this, feeling so _helpless_.” 

“I’m so sorry, Laurel,” Oliver whispered softly. “I wish I knew how to…” Oliver trailed off, thinking about his own experiences with helplessness, particularly when he was first on the island. “Maybe I _can_ help,” he said quietly. Laurel looked up at him in surprise. “When I first got to the island, I met a man named Yao Fei. Our first meeting wasn’t great. He shot me with an arrow. Later, he healed me and started teaching me how to survive. A few weeks in, I was captured by mercenaries hunting for Yao Fei.” Oliver reached down and peeled the edge of his sweater upward, revealing his abs and the scars that crisscrossed his chest. Laurel’s hand went to her mouth at the sight. 

“They tortured me for information about Yao Fei,” Oliver continued, “but I wouldn’t give him up. Eventually, they were going to kill me, but Yao Fei rescued me. A few weeks later, he made sure I met a man named Slade Wilson. Slade helped me learn how to defend myself. But for weeks, I was dependent on someone else to survive, and I hated it. I hated being so weak.” Oliver reached behind him and pulled out his wallet, from which he retrieved a weathered photograph. He held it out to Laurel, who took it with trembling fingers. It was the photograph she had given him that day at the docks. “Yao Fei told me that I needed to forget about you if I was going to survive. But I didn’t forget, Laurel, because thinking about you, about my family, gave me the strength to go on. We draw strength from those around us, from those we love. It took me five hellish years to understand that. If you _ever_ need someone to talk to or scream at or anything, you can come to me.”

“That was… really deep, Ollie,” Laurel said quietly. “Thank you. I needed to hear that. And I might take you up on your offer one day. But for now, I’ve got something I need to talk to you about.” 

“Oh?” Oliver asked. “Sara?” 

“No, not in the way you might think,” Laurel said quietly. “I went back to work at C.N.R.I. today. I decided after what happened at the docks that I wanted to live a little, like Sara did. It’s why I went back to my real hair color. I stopped being a blonde because Sara practically gloried in the stereotypes and I didn’t want to be painted with the same brush. But now I want to do what I do and do it as a blonde attorney, shove it in the face of bastards like Hunt. Pretty sure Sara would be all for that if she knew.” 

“I agree,” Oliver said, lips twitching as he realized that Sara _would_ love her sister going after men like Hunt as a blonde attorney, bringing them down with the law the way Sara would bring them down with a bo staff. “But what does that have to do with me?” 

“After I finished up for the day, Joanna came to tell me that she and the others got talking after I told them to send me the names of clients who are concerned that what Eric did would affect their cases,” Laurel replied. “They want me to take over as the head of C.N.R.I. I’m going to do it, but something Hunt said when I was on the docks with him and Eric has been bothering me. He seemed to think C.N.R.I.’s days were coming to an end, like he knew something about our backers. I know this seems so political of me, but I was wondering…” 

“I’d be more than happy to make a donation to C.N.R.I. and throw a fundraiser, if necessary,” Oliver replied, putting a hand on Laurel’s knee. “But I think you’ll find that faith in C.N.R.I. is already bolstered when you’re announced as the new director.”

“Thanks, Ollie,” Laurel said, and Oliver didn’t ask which part she was thanking him for. The two sat and talked about old memories for another hour before Oliver left the apartment just shy of Quentin Lance coming over. The last thing Laurel needed was a tense discussion between the two most stubborn men in her life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter. 
> 
> Chapter Notes:
> 
> *1* It’s always interesting (and disturbing) to write from Malcolm’s perspective, especially when he is examining a situation with Oliver or other vigilantes. Channeling Merlyn can sometimes leave me feeling like I need a shower, but it’s an interesting perspective to write from, nonetheless.
> 
> *2* I feel that C.N.R.I. would have faced a lot of backlash in canon if Eric Gitter’s involvement with Adam Hunt had been exposed. As a result, they would need someone who’s reputation wasn’t in question to replace him. And there would be only one choice at that point in time, the one that was nearly killed for being who she is. 


	8. Complications

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Initially on FFN the end of Crisis had me questioning whether I wanted to include the new timeline. After some lengthy consideration, I decided I was going AU with this story rather than try to fix it to align with what is now canon (all the shows being on one Earth). So don't expect Superman and Supergirl to show up.

Oliver Queen watched Martin Somers’ declaration of innocence from the courthouse steps on the noonday news rather than in person as he had in the last timeline. It didn’t change the feeling of a slimy bastard trying to slip through the grip of justice. With a clearer head than last time, a part of Oliver wondered if pursuing Somers in the way that he did last time was a good idea, especially when it had led to the Triad attacking Laurel in her apartment. _But,_ he reflected, _if I don’t do it the way I did it last time, then I won’t know when, or if, the Triad are going to strike at Laurel. They may instead strike at Nocenti’s daughter, but without confronting Somers, I don’t know what path would lead to the most lives saved._

It was times like these that made Oliver realize that Novu had chosen him for this for a reason. Oliver alone was willing to make the hard calls, including putting the woman he loved in danger in order to safeguard the most lives. But that didn’t mean Oliver didn’t hate himself any less for it. Especially after his decision to wait had nearly cost Laurel her life. It was times like these that also made him realize how woefully incompatible he was with Laurel, or Felicity for that matter. The man he was, the man he had been for over a decade, was the kind of man who could put those he cared about in danger by telling himself that he would be there to protect them. **_*1*_** ****

Oliver’s mind drifted over the past couple of days. He had visited a couple of more people on the List, including Marcus Redman, who had done as he asked and given the pensioners their money back. So far, the plan to slowly draw Merlyn into a confrontation at Christmas was working out the way it had last time. Taking it slow had never been Oliver’s speed, but he knew that the more he changed things, the less his knowledge would be useful and the less he would have the chance to really make an impact. He needed to lull Merlyn into that confrontation at Christmas. Then he could bring down Tempest and it’s leader before the Undertaking’s final steps could be taken. 503 lives, including Tommy’s, rode on Oliver’s ability to lure Merlyn into that confrontation. He could not, would not, fail. 

**_ *DC* _ **

Laurel Lance had found that being the head of C.N.R.I. meant doing a lot of politicking and glad-handing. She really missed being down in the trenches working cases, but C.N.R.I. needed good press, especially after everything that had gone down with Eric and Hunt, and that was how she found herself on the set of Channel 52 News, dressed in a conservative gray pantsuit and white blouse, prepping for an interview with Susan Williams, Channel 52’s top reporter and a hard-hitter from all accounts. Luckily, Laurel’s reputation spoke for itself and so Williams was inclined to be more congenial with Laurel than she would with some of the wealthier members of Starling City. Laurel suffered through the final make-up checks, earning a commiserating smile from Susan, and then waited for the interview to begin. 

“Good afternoon, Starling City,” Susan began. “Susan Williams here with a guest many have wanted to hear from ever since tales of her harrowing ordeal made it to the news circuits. Laurel Lance is the new head of the City Necessary Resources Initiative, taking over for former director Eric Gitter after his involvement with Adam Hunt was discovered.” Susan turned to Laurel. “Would it be alright if I called you Laurel?” 

“Laurel’s fine, Miss Williams,” Laurel said calmly, centering herself with some of the techniques Ted had taught her in their sessions. 

“Susan, please,” Susan said with a smile. “The city has been abuzz with what happened to you last week. I don’t mean to pry, but can you share anything that happened with you there with us today?” 

“I can,” Laurel said. “I learned that the rot of corruption runs deeper in Starling than I ever believed, and it means my job at C.N.R.I. is that much more important. My colleagues and I are committed to getting justice for those who’ve been ignored or forgotten by a system that is bought and paid for more often than not. I myself am more committed than ever to seeing justice is done to men like Adam Hunt and Eric Gitter, those who prey on the people of our city like vampires, sucking the life from our streets.” 

“Bold words, and your record in court shows you have the conviction to stand by what you say,” Susan said. “Speaking of, what can you tell us about the court case against Martin Somers?” 

“As I told the court in my opening arguments this morning, Martin Somers is aiding the Triad with bringing in the drugs that they flood our streets with,” Laurel replied. “Victor Nocenti is a hero who tried to bring that truth to light and paid the price for it. It’s only right that we get justice for him, and for all those that have become addicted to and died from the drugs Somers aids the Triad with bringing into our city.” 

**_ *DC* _ **

In a darkened room in a warehouse in the Glades, a single figure watched the interview of Laurel Lance as it ended, weighing the impact the lawyer’s public denunciation of their activities could have and considering all the options that were available for dealing with the issue. Bribery and occasionally intimidation had worked wonders for the Triad in the past when some lawyer got uppity, but thanks to the wide media coverage on this particular lawyer’s recent abduction and the reasons behind it as revealed by Adam Hunt and Eric Gitter, such methods were off the table. Laurel Lance was a crusader who would find the loose string and pull it until everything unraveled. That left only one course of action available. 

“Find her,” Xi Shan, the head of all Triad operations in Starling City, directed to Chien Na Wei, who was standing nearby, spinning her knives and waiting for direction. “Silence her.” Chien Na Wei gave a light bow of the head, acknowledging the command, and departed to begin preparing to carry out Xi Shan’s orders.

**_ *DC* _ **

Xi Shan wasn’t the only one who had seen Laurel’s interview and knew what it meant. Quentin Lance had made a beeline straight for Lieutenant Pike’s office. “Got a minute, Lieutenant?” he asked, and the urgency in his voice caused Pike to wave him inside without a second’s thought. Pike knew already that this had to be about Laurel. Only Quentin’s daughter and her safety evoked this kind of urgency in the detective, though one good thing that had come from her abduction, if anything could be counted as such, was that Quentin had stopped drinking and was attending meetings to sober up. “Look, did you see the interview with Laurel?” Quentin asked. 

“I didn’t have time,” Pike said apologetically. “Something come up we should know about?” 

“She outright stated the case against Martin Somers is connected to the Triad drug operation,” Quentin said, and Pike let out a low whistle. As good an attorney as Laurel was, she sometimes forgot to share pertinent details with her father or the police when it came to her cases, in part because she felt the police were a part of the problem for those cases that the D.A. chose not to pursue, and this was clearly one of those cases. “I know we just pulled the protection detail since there’s been no further threats on her life and that maybe I’m just being overprotective, but I want to put another detail on her, and on Joanna de la Vega and Emily Nocenti.” 

“They’ll have it,” Pike said. “If the commissioner decides to come down on someone, he can come down on me. I know how dangerous the Triad are.” 

**_ *DC* _ **

Laurel looked up from working on the paperwork that had accumulated during her interview as her father came in with three uniformed officers. A small part of her, the part that wanted to be independent of anyone’s protection, balked at the idea of having police protection again, and perhaps if she hadn’t been abducted, she would’ve vocalized this with a snide comment about it not working when she discovered boys. But she _had_ been abducted and she now knew just how dangerous the city could be for someone as outspoken as her. She resigned herself to the possibility of having police protection on a frequent basis. “I know what you’re going to say, Dad,” Laurel said as Quentin came up to her desk with one of the officers, the other two breaking off to find Joanna and Emily no doubt. “I get why I need this.” 

“Thank you for not fighting me on this, Laurel,” Quentin said. “I’m not gonna say I’m happy about you going after people like Hunt and the Triad, people who will do whatever it takes to keep you quiet, but I know I can’t stop you. You’re too much like me to quit. But I can damn well make sure you’re safe, even if it makes you uncomfortable. I _have_ to do at least that much.” 

“I know, Daddy,” Laurel said, moving around her desk and giving her father a quick hug. “I love you.” That was one of the changes of her abduction, Laurel reflected as she parted ways with her father and settled back in to continue her paperwork while the officer in charge of her security took up a position nearby, his fellow officers having already done the same for Emily, who would be leaving soon, and Joanna. Both of them were more willing to be affectionate and not so stingy with their emotions towards one another. A bad habit, she realized, that they had gotten into after her mother had left them to pursue her now not-so-wild theories that Sara might have lived. Which reminded Laurel, she still needed to call her mother and tell her what Oliver had told her. It was just difficult to call and speak to the woman who had all but abandoned her and her father. 

**_ *DC* _ **

Oliver smiled as he walked through the halls of Queen Consolidated again, listening to Walter speak of the renovation and modernization that the building had undergone in the past five years. One of the many regrets he had from the last timeline was that he hadn’t paid as much attention to Queen Consolidated as he should have, and that had led to the Board’s support of Isabel Rochev. Regardless of his activities as Green Arrow in this new timeline, he intended to be as responsible as he could be when it came to Queen Consolidated. He had thought a lot about his interactions with Ned Foster and realized that Ned had wanted _him_ to take the position of C.E.O. after Walter’s disappearance, not his mother, but he had been so focused on his despair over his defeat at Malcolm’s hands that he hadn’t realized that and instead he and Thea had gotten his mother to come around. This time, if Ned had to ask for someone new to be the C.E.O., Oliver fully intended to accept the position. He knew that under normal circumstances, the amount of time spent working as C.E.O. wasn’t as much as he had had to deal with during his second year. That had been the result of Isabel Rochev’s meddling. Normally, Ned Foster, as Chief of Operations, would handle the day-to-day and bring the important stuff to Oliver, and Board meetings were never held almost daily. 

“Oliver, there was something else we wanted to talk to you about,” Walter said as they entered the older man’s office, gesturing for Oliver to take a seat. “As you know, the groundbreaking ceremony for the Robert Queen Applied Sciences Center is this week, and we were hoping to announce at that time that you were taking a leadership position in the company.” 

Oliver noted that it was Walter suggesting the idea this time rather than his mother. Clearly, Walter had been impressed with Oliver’s attitude since coming back and was moving forward with this idea despite objections. But he needed to be sure that this was a one hundred percent genuine offer. “Two questions. First, what happened to me being out of touch with reality and needing to be locked up in a padded cell?” 

“I regret what I did that day, Oliver,” Moira told her son, and surprise flitted across Oliver’s face as he registered the genuine regret and sorrow in her voice. “I know that you were just worried about Laurel and acting out because of your concern. I had just gotten you back and all I could think of was you crossing whoever had taken Laurel and ending up sharing her fate. I overreacted and I’m sorry for that.” 

“It’s alright, Mom,” Oliver said after reflecting back on that day and realizing he _had_ been acting rather out of character as far as his family would’ve been concerned. “I accept your apology. I don’t want there to be hard feelings between us.” The tremulous smile Moira showed at this warmed Oliver’s heart. “Now, second question: what would you want me to do?” 

“We would like for you to take over as the head of Applied Sciences,” Walter replied. “Your duties will be primarily administrative, approving the budget for projects, deciding which projects get funding and which don’t, all very standard. This will give you a taste of what running the company is like. I’ll also be showing you the ropes and introducing you to the other department heads and the Board.” 

Oliver stood and looked out the window at the city. As the head of the Applied Sciences division of Queen Consolidated, Unidac Industries and the Markov device would fall under his purview. This was too good of an opportunity to waste. “When I came back, I decided I wanted to do more with my life,” Oliver said quietly. “I want to make Dad proud, honor his legacy in a way that matters.” He turned back to them, seeing his mother glowing with pride and Walter smiling gently. “I accept.” **_*2*_** ****

“Oh, Oliver, that’s wonderful,” Moira said. “If you can, prepare a small statement for the groundbreaking. We don’t want to rush you into anything, but it might be good for there to be a statement from you.” 

“I’ll see if I can pull something together,” Oliver said quietly. 

**_ *DC* _ **

Felicity Smoak groaned as she opened her eyes, finding her hair falling into her eyes as the alarm clock blared. She blinked, realizing there was something different. The alarm blaring was one she hadn’t had for years because Oliver hadn’t been able to stand it when they moved in together in Ivy Town. Then the past few hours, from her perspective, came rushing back. Saying goodbye to Dinah, Roy, and Rene; taking Mia and William to see their father’s gravestone and giving them parting words; being sent to join Oliver by the Monitor. Now she was here, in what looked to be her old townhouse. Felicity pulled herself into a sitting position, shaking her head and trying to sort out her thoughts. Deciding to splash some cold water on her face and get to figuring out what the hell was going on, Felicity headed for her bathroom, only to stop in consternation as she entered her bathroom only to find herself on a large metal disc in what appeared to be space. Standing across from her was Mar-Novu. “Felicity Smoak, no doubt you are confused,” Novu said. 

“That’d be a fair assessment,” Felicity scoffed. “I thought you were sending me to be with Oliver?” 

“And I have,” Mar-Novu replied. “In recognition of his service to me, despite his mistaken belief for a time that _I_ was the enemy, I have given Oliver a second chance to be the hero he was destined to be. I returned him to the day he returned home to Starling City from Lian Yu. He has already learned the bite of changing even the smallest of things, but he could use a confidant. That is why I have brought you here. Even the strongest of minds can break without a source of comfort.” 

“So, I’m really in the past? When I was working I.T. at Queen Consolidated?” Felicity said, feeling a minor sense of dread at the thought. After so many years of being ‘the boss’ at Smoak Technologies, adjusting to being an underling again was going to be tiresome. 

“Yes,” Novu replied. “It is up to you to learn everything you can about the changes Oliver has made and get him to confide in you. He will accept your comfort, though he may have something he wishes to speak to you about.” 

“What?” Felicity asked, confused. 

“That is for Oliver himself to tell you,” Novu replied. “I brought you back on your day off so that you may assimilate more easily. This is all I will do for you, Felicity Smoak. Your fate, and Oliver’s, are now yours. Oliver will inform you of what challenges he may face in his new ventures.” A white light flooded Felicity’s senses and a moment later she was standing in her bathroom. She shook her head and went to the mirror, almost starting when she saw her face, decades younger than it had been the last time she had seen it in the mirror, staring back at her. 

“Frak, this is gonna take some getting used to,” Felicity muttered. “Alright, first things first: get ready for the day and then find out what Oliver’s been up to.” 

**_ *DC* _ **

Oliver had seen a recap of Laurel’s interview, including the revelation she had given about the case, and knew deep down that the Triad wasn’t going to let that slide. There would be no window of safety while Oliver put the fear of God into Martin Somers. Laurel had painted a target on her head for the Triad and they would be going after her as soon as possible. The problem Oliver saw was that the only way to truly safeguard her was to be in the apartment with her and he couldn’t do that as Green Arrow. He was going to have to risk exposing himself to Laurel as someone who could handle themselves in order to keep her safe. Perhaps he could even talk her into moving into the Queen Mansion, which was far more secure than either her apartment or his loft. He knew that his mother would help out if he pushed the issue; she had done it during the last timeline, when Edward Rasmus’ hitman was after Laurel and the boy who had witnessed the hitman killing his parents. 

Oliver sent a text down to Diggle to tell him about what they would be doing that evening and headed in the direction of the bedroom, planning to be in the best possible wardrobe for fighting just in case it came down to that, when their was a light knock on the door. Oliver frowned, going through his mental list of potential visitors and coming up with none who would be here except maybe Thea coming to bug her older brother as all little sisters are destined to do. Oliver went to the door and opened it, only to blink and frown in consternation at the familiar blonde with her hair pulled back into a ponytail. “Miss Smoak, if I recall right,” he said calmly. “I believe I already told you that I found someone else to help me learn more about modern technology.” He began to close the door. 

“Mia,” Felicity said, and Oliver froze in place, the door only partway closed. “Our daughter’s name. Mia.” 

Oliver was silent as he swung the door back open. “Felicity?” he whispered in shock, and he saw her eyes warm with delight at the way he said it, and he realized it had been with an almost wondering tone. The next thing he knew, Felicity had flung her arms around his neck and her lips were pressed against his. Oliver automatically returned the kiss, his misgivings about Mia and her childhood falling away as he realized that he had his wife in his arms again and her lips were against his. The two leaned against the island counter, kissing softly and exploring each other’s younger faces with their hands. **_*3*_**

But then reality returned, and Oliver remembered what he had been doing. “We can’t do this now,” he said, reluctantly pulling away from her. “I’m not sure if you saw, but Laurel gave a rather honest interview about Martin Somers and we both know the Triad isn’t going to take that lying down.” 

“No, they won’t,” Felicity agreed, pulling away from her husband, who she hadn’t seen in twenty years. She could wait a little while longer. “Are you going in as Green Arrow or yourself? Cuz I saw this video of you escaping a private ambulance with some rather punishing moves.” 

“That’s on the Internet?” Oliver asked uncomfortably. That would make things difficult if Malcolm ever saw it. 

“Not anymore,” Felicity said with a soft smile. “I spent the day hunting down anything that could compromise you and scrubbing it. I have a few tricks these kids have never seen thanks to twenty years of being a tech mogul.” 

“As always, Felicity, you are remarkable,” Oliver said. “I have to change. I’m going in as myself, to answer your question. It’s the best way to safeguard Laurel. If I go as a lookout, she could be dead before I get into the apartment.” Felicity nodded, seeing the reasoning behind that. “We do need to talk, but right now…” 

“Is not a good time,” Felicity said. “And I hope this means I’m back in the fold.” 

“We’ll talk about that, but I won’t outright say no,” Oliver said. “The guy I got from Waller is no you. I’ll call you and arrange a time to meet so we can talk about things.” 

“Why does that make me nervous?” Felicity asked quietly as Oliver headed upstairs. She turned and walked out of the room, trying to figure out what Oliver could have to talk to her about that could interfere with their reunion. Or was it a matter of making it seem natural to his friends and family, including John Diggle, who had given her an odd look as she entered the building. Well, that was something she could work on while Oliver helped Laurel (and it was strange to think of her friend as alive and not be thinking of the Laurel from Earth-2 who had been the one she could turn to while Oliver was in prison). 

**_ *DC* _ **

Oliver was lost in thought as the car pulled away from the curb. Felicity being here and remembering the future was, he decided, both a blessing and a complication. He knew that he could trust Felicity implicitly and he was beginning to realize he needed someone to talk to about all of this. But it was also a complication because of his thoughts regarding his worthiness to be in a relationship with either her or Laurel. He loved both women in his own way, and while he had decided he wasn’t going to pursue Laurel (she was already in enough danger just by being who she was and challenging the go-getters of Starling’s criminal and corrupt), he had also not planned on getting involved with Felicity because of the years it took to build the trust and respect they had had. But now she was here, the Felicity he had fallen in love with and married. Things were going to get awkward with Diggle if he quickly replaced Henry, but he _knew_ Felicity was better and wouldn’t be such an arrogant little shit about it. Well, not anymore, he winced as he thought of her attitude while they were fighting H.I.V.E. and Chase. She had been more than a little arrogant and holier than thou during that time. 

“So, let me see if I got this right,” Diggle said from the front. “You’re on your way to save your ex’s life but you’re having relations with the blonde girl I saw go up to and leave your apartment looking mussed?” 

“It’s complicated,” Oliver said. 

“Just don’t be surprised when it blows up in your face, sir,” Diggle said quietly. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter.
> 
> Chapter Notes:
> 
> *1* This Oliver hasn’t been through therapy like the Oliver in “The Emerald Queen”, and therefore has all of the typical insecurities Ollie has in the show.
> 
> *2* I don’t know yet how the Christmas confrontation is going to go, so I’m hedging my bets.
> 
> *3* Whether I like it or not, Oliver and Felicity were husband and wife (still are in their minds), and for Felicity it’s been twenty years. There’s going to be some handsy stuff going on.


	9. Interference

Oliver Queen stepped onto the curb as Diggle opened the door for him, feeling the brisk October air on his skin, the light breeze that ruffled his short hair. Oliver turned to Dig. “Keep an eye out, the Triad will go after the cops first,” he said, giving the older man a look. Diggle nodded, showing he understood. He and the cops would be the first line of defense if the Triad came in through the front and Oliver was trusting him to keep the officers alive and fighting. Oliver nodded in return and entered Laurel’s apartment building, taking the steps quickly but not too quickly. He needed to approach this carefully, like he approached any change to the timeline. What was his intention here? Did he intend to capture Chien Na Wei, send a message with her back to Xi Shan, or something else? Oliver decided the first goal had to be, of course, safeguarding Laurel. Everything else after that was secondary.

Oliver walked down the familiar hallway and stopped outside of Laurel’s door, where he raised a hand and knocked. A few moments later, the door opened, though a bit more slowly than it used to, and he saw Laurel looking out with a guarded expression on her face, an expression that faded as a warm smile blossomed. “Ollie,” she said, opening the door wider. “Come on in.” Oliver stepped across the threshold, and Laurel closed the door. “What brings you by?”

“Thought I’d catch you up on what’s happening on my end of things,” Oliver said. “Seems only fair since your life is under a microscope right now thanks to your new job.” Laurel rubbed the back of her neck self-consciously. “For what its worth, I thought you did a fantastic job.”

“Thanks, Ollie,” Laurel said. “So, what _is_ happening with you?”

“Well, I went to Queen Consolidated today to get a tour of the building and find out all the advancements that have been made,” Oliver said quietly as he took a seat on Laurel’s couch, Laurel sitting beside him with one leg curled under her as she watched him, green eyes alight with curiosity. “While I was there, Mom and Walter asked me about taking a leadership position in the company and announcing it at the groundbreaking this weekend for the Applied Sciences center.”

“And you’re having trouble deciding what to tell them,” Laurel said with a nod.

“No, actually, though I understand why you’d think that,” Oliver said quietly. “I said yes. I had a long time to think about what I’d do when I got back, _if_ I got back. For so much of my life, I’ve been afraid of responsibility, afraid that if I worked for the company I’d turn out like my father, always stressing about the company and that I’d never have time for the family I wanted to build with-with you.” Oliver looked down, feeling doubly guilty because he was reminding Laurel of their past relationship and remembering her final words to him in the last timeline, and because he was purposely talking about their relationship when his wife from twenty years in the future was waiting to talk to him after all of this was done. As a result of this, he missed Laurel’s brief flush at the mention of their past relationship and her quick, but obvious, battle for control over her emotions. “But I want to do more, I want to be more than the playboy I used to be. And I want to honor my father. This is the best way I know how.”

“I think its very mature of you to want to take a position at Queen Consolidated even though you’re still struggling to reacclimate, Ollie,” Laurel said quietly, taking one of his hands in hers. For the first time in a while, he felt uncomfortable as he realized how close he and Laurel had been even when they weren’t together and half-wondering how Felicity would take this before deciding that until they sorted things out Felicity had no bearing on his choices regarding Laurel. “I think you can do anything you put your mind to.”

Oliver chuckled ruefully. “I think there’s a difference between being a partying playboy and being a respectable businessman,” he said. He met Laurel’s green eyes. “I know it may not mean much now, but I am sorry. For all of it. For all the other girls. I didn’t know how to tell you I wasn’t ready for what you wanted.”

“You weren’t the only one trying to show me that, Ollie,” Laurel said after a moment. “Dad even expressed a concern if you were ready. But I only wanted to see and hear in an echo chamber. But thank you. I’m sorry I didn’t listen the way I should have.” **_*1*_**

Before either of them could say another word, the sound of gunfire echoed from outside. Both of them were on their feet, Oliver cocking his head to the side and, like the last time around, hearing the sound of footsteps on the fire escape. “There’s someone on the fire escape,” he said, taking Laurel by the shoulders and hurrying her towards her bedroom. “Whatever you hear, don’t come out until I tell you it’s clear,” Oliver said and pushed Laurel into her bedroom.

“Ollie, what-” Laurel’s question was cut off as he pulled the door shut and turned to face Chien Na Wei, aka China White, as she approached, twirling her blades.

“ _You’re not going to touch her,_ ” Oliver declared in Mandarin.

“Again, you interfere in our business, Mr. Queen,” China White replied in English, lips twisting into a smirk. “A hazardous venture.”

“What can I say?” Oliver asked as a sense of calm washed over him. “I’m a slow learner.”

“Then allow me to speed up your education,” China White replied. She lunged forward, slashing at Oliver with one of her knives. Oliver leaned back shot a forward kick in her direction, which she blocked with crossed arms. Even so, the force of the kick had her stumbling backwards, and Oliver moved forward, intent on driving China White away from where she could harm Laurel. China White fired a punch at Oliver, which he caught with an upraised arm and fired a left hook back at her. China White blocked the punch before bringing her knife down hard, driving it into Oliver’s left shoulder. Oliver gave a grunt of pain before shooting forward, his head smashing into China White’s face. She gave a cry of pain as blood gushed from her now-broken nose and stumbling back with a pained hiss.

Oliver pushed his advantage, delivering a roundhouse kick that deprived China White of her remaining knife. China White leaped forward in a roundhouse of her own, which caught Oliver on the side of the head. Stars exploded before his eyes and he was on his hands and knees, facing away from her. A slim forearm wrapped tightly around his throat and he felt China White putting pressure on the back of his neck, choking him. He stood and thrust the two of them backwards against the archway leading into the kitchen. China White’s grip on his neck loosened just a little, and he did it again and again, until finally her grip was broken. Oliver spun, aiming to deliver a kick at her midsection, but China White rolled off to the side and came up in a crouch.

“You’ve grown since we last fought, Mr. Queen,” China White said, wiping at the blood flowing from her nose and smearing it across her mouth. “It’s almost a pity you’ve chosen the path of the hero of the common folk. You could have made quite the name for yourself as a mercenary.”

“That life never interested me,” Oliver replied flatly. “Starling City is my home. I’ll always fight for it, even if I’m the only one.”

“And so, you protect those who would be your allies,” China White said. “I can see this contest is at an impasse. Until next time, Mr. Queen.” China White dived out the window and he could hear her scrambling up the fire escape. A burning sensation in his shoulder reminded him of the blade still lodged there. He moved towards Laurel’s bedroom and knocked softly. “Laurel, it’s Oliver,” he said. “You can come out now. You’re safe.”

The door opened in an instant, and Oliver registered the fact that Laurel had her shotgun primed and ready to fire. She lowered it at seeing him, her green eyes instantly going to the knife sticking out of his shoulder. “Oh, my God, Ollie! What happened?”

“That white-haired woman sure didn’t like my suggestion that she should leave,” Oliver quipped.

Laurel gave him a hard look. “You told me you’d never lie to me again, Ollie,” she said quietly. “I heard what she said. You’ve interfered in their affairs before. How?”

“That is a very long story, and we’re about to have company,” Oliver said, looking towards the door. Laurel looked up as Oliver’s bodyguard and the two officers that had been guarding her entered her apartment. Diggle was instantly at Oliver’s side, putting pressure on the wound and snapping at the officers to get an ambulance there A.S.A.P. “Glad you were able to help, John,” Oliver said drowsily.

“Stay awake, Oliver,” Diggle replied, slapping his employer and startling him. “You’ve lost a lot of blood. Stay awake, and I promise you can sleep all you want once we get you home. Got it?”

“Right, right,” Oliver said. “Blood loss, drowsiness, not a good combo…”

**_*DC*_ **

“Ollie!” A brunette missile shot the distance between the door and the hospital bed on which Oliver was laying, bare-chested with a bandage wrapped around his shoulder, with such speed one could be forgiven for thinking that Thea Queen had somehow developed superpowers. “Mom is freaking out; the cops are saying you fought some crazy Chinese assassin? What were you thinking, you’re not Rambo! You-Wait…” Thea slowed, stepping back slightly and really looking at her brother for the first time, her hazel eyes drifting to the scars that littered his torso. “Ollie… what-what happened?”

“I’m no stranger to pain and injury, Speedy,” Oliver said quietly, holding out a hand. She took it, numbly sitting beside him. “My life for the past five years hasn’t been an easy one and its left me with a set of skills that come in handy sometimes. I didn’t even really notice the knife in my shoulder until the fight was over. And by then, well, the blood loss was making me woozy, so I didn’t really feel the full brunt of it. I’m still not since they’ve got me on painkillers. I’ll be feeling it tomorrow, though.”

Moira Queen entered the room, her face pale and Walter by her side. She breathed a small sigh of relief as she took in the sight of her son, whole but injured, and came to stand beside his bed. “Oliver, you have no idea how scared I was when we got the call from the hospital and Lieutenant Pike met us downstairs to tell us what happened,” Moira said quietly. “They’ll be going after the woman who did this to you soon; according to the police, the knife she left in you ties her to more than a dozen murders in the past year.”

“Then at least something good came from all of this,” Oliver said with a tired smile, knowing that even if they got White, that they wouldn’t hold her for long. A.R.G.U.S. had had custody of her following him capturing her two years ago when he had been in Starling for them, and yet she was back in action by the time he returned to Starling officially. “Did he say anything about how Laurel is?”

“Shaken,” Walter said. “I don’t doubt that having been attacked in her own home twice in the space of a week has hit her hard.”

“Oliver,” Moira began delicately, “I know how much Laurel means to you, but this is the second time she has angered powerful criminals and this time you were injured because of it. I think its best that you keep your distance from Laurel until she chooses to no longer pursue these cases that put her in such grave danger.”

“If I hadn’t been there tonight, Laurel would probably be dead,” Oliver said. “Maybe even those cops since I was lucid enough to hear them tell Detectives Lance and Hilton that if it weren’t for Dig, they wouldn’t have been aware of the approaching Triad gunmen. I won’t leave her to face danger alone. I owe it to Sara to keep her sister safe. And… I still love her.” That was the real issue, Oliver thought to himself as he saw his mother’s gaze soften and Thea’s lip tremble as they heard those words fall from his lips. He had never stopped loving Laurel; he had been able to finally process his grief enough to move on thanks to the Dominators, but that had never changed his true feelings for Laurel, even though she was dead and gone by that point. He had been able to be happy with Felicity, but he didn’t love her the same way he had loved, no, that he _loved_ Laurel in. There was a depth to his love for Laurel that simply didn’t exist with Felicity. _And that is why we could never work, even if we sort out this issue about Mia’s childhood,_ Oliver recognized grimly.

“Oliver, I think perhaps its time you see a therapist,” Moira said quietly. “I’ll look into someone suitable to helping someone who’s… been through what you have,” she said delicately, gesturing to his scarred torso. “In the meantime, we still have the groundbreaking this weekend to consider. Have you prepared your remarks.”

“I have a vague idea of what I want to say,” Oliver replied. He would go along with his mother’s request that he see a therapist, if only because it might help him work through some of the things that had made his friendships and other relationships so unhealthy at times. But he wasn’t going to give up his friendship with Laurel, and he knew that was what his mother would want from this. “I’ll have something ready by the time the groundbreaking happens, I promise.” **_*2*_**

The Queens and Walter simply sat in the room, chatting for a little while, until Dr. Lamb came by to talk about discharging Oliver and to cover the prescriptions that he was giving Oliver for the pain that he was sure to feel once the hospital’s painkillers started wearing off.

**_*DC*_ **

The next day was a slow one, since Oliver had to deal with the pain in his shoulder. He had sent a text to Laurel, saying that he needed a few days before she could get her answers about what happened. She had sent back a text that she understood and that was probably for the best, as her father was practically dogging her footsteps at the moment and the last thing that they needed was for him to overhear their conversation. Oliver had also dug up Felicity’s number and sent her a text to meet him later tonight unless she could get away from work with an excuse about helping him with technology.

As a result, he spent most of the day lounging around the loft, feeling anxious about everything that was racing through his mind, from what he needed to talk to Felicity about to what Laurel would want to know or have figured out. For all he knew, she had heard enough to figure out that he was fully-capable of being the Green Arrow. Oliver knew he needed to decide as to whether he would keep his promise to never lie to her again if she confronted him about _that_ possibility. Could he put her in the kind of danger knowing his secret would put her in, even if he knew he would protect her until she could defend herself? He knew she had been going to Ted Grant’s gym a full two years ahead of schedule, and something told him that this was just the beginning. Once Laurel set her mind to something it consumed her in a way. He doubted she would stop with just one method of self-defense.

Diggle had been excused for the day since Oliver wasn’t going to be going out and about, so he had no forewarning before a timid knock sounded at the front door. Oliver stood from where he had been lounging on the sofa and strode over to the door, opening it to find Felicity standing there. Oliver stepped aside and swung the door open wider, and she stepped in. “It is so _weird_ being back here,” Felicity said. “So many memories, but none of them have happened yet.”

“Some of them darker than others,” Oliver agreed, thinking of the time he had come home to find a smashed apartment and his little sister bleeding out on the floor after Ra’s had attacked her. “We need to talk, Felicity.”

“Well, those are four words no significant other wants to hear,” Felicity tried to quip, but the worry in her voice kept it from breaking the tension. “What do we need to talk about?”

“A few things,” Oliver said quietly. “But let’s start with Mia.”

“She grew up into a beautiful and strong young woman, Oliver,” Felicity said. “You would be proud of her.”

“I am, because I got the chance to meet her,” Oliver said, and Felicity started, her head snapping around to stare at Oliver in shock. “Novu brought her, William, and Connor to the present to help with my mission. I don’t know why, and I probably never will; but I got to meet our daughter. But there’s a problem.”

“What problem?” Felicity asked, mind whirring and trying to figure out what could be so concerning for her husband.

“She was too much like me,” Oliver said quietly. “The whole point to you living at the cabin with her was that she had a safe and normal childhood, away from the madness that was our lives in Star City. How could you have Nyssa train her to be a warrior? That wasn’t what I wanted for her. I wanted her safe, and happy, and living a normal life!” Oliver’s voice raised slightly at the end.

“Safe, happy, and normal is all well and good, Oliver, but you were _gone_ ,” Felicity began heatedly, “and I was left raising a baby with the threat of the Ninth Circle and every other enemy you’ve ever made hanging over my head. I reached out to Thea, but she refused to train Mia, believing, apparently rightly, that it isn’t what you would’ve wanted. So, I reached out to Nyssa, and while she was reluctant because of her own childhood, she saw that Mia needed to know how to defend herself. It never went overboard, Oliver. I swear, Nyssa never went overboard with the training. I was _always_ watching to make sure.”

“And your vigilante work on the side?” Oliver asked. “I get it; there was a threat to Star City. But you were doing it secretly, while Mia was unaware of what was going on. What if she had never found out and this Galaxy had come calling? Did you ever think of the danger you were putting her in by doing what you were doing from the cabin?”

“Don’t you _dare_ question my love for our daughter or my concern for her safety,” Felicity said. “I’m the one who spent twenty years educating and keeping her safe. _You_ were the one who followed after a cosmic being and _died_ as result.”

“Clearly, we’re not going to agree on how you raised Mia,” Oliver said after a moment of silence while he pushed down the hurt that he was feeling at Felicity throwing his sacrifice in his face. “I know that you’re thinking we can just pick up where we left off, do it right this time. But you have over twenty years, mentally, on me and we are now in a time where Laurel is alive.”

“What does Laurel have to do with anything?” Felicity asked, feeling a cold sense of dread form in her stomach. She had always doubted Oliver’s love for her over his care for Laurel; it was why she had hidden Black Siren’s existence from him when she discovered that a doppelganger of Laurel Lance was locked away in S.T.A.R. Labs.

“You remember the Dominators?” Oliver asked quietly. Felicity nodded slowly. “When they captured us, they trapped us in a perfect dream world, one that would keep its hold on us. In that dream world, I was going to marry Laurel; I was finally worthy of her, something I had never felt I was in real life while she was alive. It took all of my strength to leave that world behind and come back to fight the Dominators. It gave me a sense of closure regarding Laurel’s death, but it made one thing very clear: Dinah Laurel Lance is, and always will be, the love of my life. I did come to love you, Felicity, and a part of me always will. But the truth is that I love Laurel, and even if I can never be with her, I will always do what I can to make sure she lives a full and happy life instead of dying at age thirty, just as I will always do what I must to ensure this city is safe from the threats I know, and the threats yet to come, like Grant Wilson. I don’t have it in me to be the partner and husband that you deserve. I’m sorry.”

“I-I see,” Felicity said, tears welling up in her eyes. “I dedicated twenty years of my life to ensuring our daughter became the hero that the Monitor saw her becoming, twenty years to the thought of getting back to you, and you’re going to throw all that away, erase our daughter from existence, for Laurel? Do you have any idea how obsessed you sound? You had a family, you could have it again, but you are going to throw that away for a woman who you cheated on with her own sister!” Felicity wiped at her eyes. “Don’t worry about me exposing your secret or coming to work with you. I believe in what you’re doing, and I’ll keep your secret, but I can’t work with you for the same reasons as the last time this happened. Goodbye, Oliver.” Felicity turned and headed for the door. Oliver watched her go, knowing this was for the best, but still feeling a small part of his heart break as he knew he had hurt the woman he had called his wife for two years.

Oliver’s mind went over what Felicity had said and his mind stuck on one particular phrase. _Erase our daughter from existence._ He hadn’t really thought of it before, but by doing this, he _was_ erasing his daughter from existence. Tears sprang to his eyes as he remembered bonding with Mia and learning all he could about her, which wasn’t easy because she took after him so much. He went to the fridge and got a beer, returning to the sofa. “I’m sorry, Mia,” he whispered quietly before he began drinking the beer. It was the first beer of the night, but it would not be the last. **_*3*_**

**_*DC*_ **

Dinah Laurel Lance sighed as she laid back on her father’s bed (her father had taken the couch) and tried to rest, even going so far as closing her eyes. But every time she did, the memory of Oliver hurrying her into her bedroom and hearing the words he exchanged with China White, the deadliest assassin the Triad had in Starling City, came flooding back. Oliver had interfered in the Triad’s affairs before according to what White had said. Laurel couldn’t have imagined Oliver interfering in the affairs of a criminal organization like the Triad before tonight, but she had seen the look on his face as he shut the door behind her. He had known exactly what he was getting into, exactly what he was exposing about himself, and he had trusted that she would keep it a secret and let him get away with calling himself lucky.

Her apartment was once more a crime scene, which was why she was staying with her father, who was doing his best to convince her that it was time to move. She supposed that now that she was the Director of C.N.R.I. she could afford it, but she had been living where she was for over five years. It was familiar and she knew what to expect; or at least she _had_ known, before Adam Hunt sent goons to kidnap her and before China White tried to carve her up like a Thanksgiving turkey. Maybe her father was right; maybe it was time to consider moving into a more secure building. She sighed and turned over on her side, one hand bracing the side of her face as she stared out her father’s window at the city. Somewhere out there, Oliver was recovering from a knife wound to the shoulder, a wound he had received defending her. Her father had been incredulous, but Laurel thought she had seen a glimmer of respect as he asked what ‘the punk’ had been thinking, taking on a Triad assassin.

Laurel once again felt a flash of guilt as she remembered Oliver’s woozy commentary, but the analytical part of her mind also considered what he had said. Oliver had never been one for medical knowledge, yet he had known that blood loss and drifting off was a bad idea. Or maybe that was just common sense even to a billionaire playboy. _No, he also knows how to fight,_ Laurel reminded herself. _And fight a Chinese assassin at that. You’ve seen the reports on what China White is supposed to be capable of. Ollie was never a fighter before that island. Something happened there that changed him._

And that was the issue at hand, really. Oliver Queen _had_ changed from the playboy that she remembered and had loved into a serious, compassionate man who could fight a Triad assassin to a stand-still with a minor injury to show for it and who had shown himself to have an analytical mind of his own when he asked her father if the agreement was still in place. Just how much had that island changed her ex-boyfriend? Could it have changed him enough to become…

 _That’s just stupid, Laurel,_ she chided herself. _If Ollie was the Green Arrow, he would’ve been guarding you that way, not putting himself in your apartment where you could figure him out. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe the man in black and the Green Arrow aren’t the same person. Maybe… maybe Oliver is the man in black. ***4***_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter.
> 
> Chapter Notes:
> 
> *1* It is canon, whether we like it or not, that Laurel more or less saw only what she wanted to see and heard only what she wanted to hear. I would rather have Laurel acknowledge this than blame everything completely on Oliver. It takes two people to cause an issue.
> 
> *2* Yeah, I’m doing the therapy thing in this story, after all. But I think it’ll play out differently since this is Moira’s dime paying for it and so Oliver can’t be truthful. We’ll see how things go.
> 
> *3* Writing the confrontation between Oliver and Felicity was interesting. I was going to draw this out, maybe have Felicity work with Oliver and Diggle instead of Henry, but that’s just not how this worked out. Oh, and now Oliver has to deal with the fact he’s essentially erasing his daughter from existence. Sidenote: Anyone else acknowledging the fact that technically, everyone did get wiped from existence, Mia included, and that the ones that exist now are ‘new’ versions?
> 
> *4* One of the things I hate about the Arrowverse shows is when they take smart, analytical characters and make them dumb on purpose. That will never be a thing with my writing, especially when there are so many clues.


	10. The Triad Crippled

Oliver Queen entered the A.R.G.U.S. operations center that Amanda Waller had essentially leased to him for his operations, making a mental note that he should begin setting up a secondary base of operations soon, in case this place was ever compromised. Henry Fyff was going over data from one of the many hacks he had been performing for Oliver. John Diggle shadowed Oliver into the room. “Henry, bring up everything you have on the Triad’s operations here in Starling,” Oliver said, and Henry managed to only jump a little at the sound of the archer’s voice. He began doing as Oliver asked almost instantly, muttering under his breath something that was probably not very complimentary to Oliver, who ignored it despite hearing it quite clearly. He took pride in being ‘a fucking ninja’, after all.

Henry worked his magic with the computers, and soon Oliver was looking over the intel, filtered through A.R.G.U.S., that they had on the Triad and its holdings in Starling City. Oliver studied it, considering his options. The Triad wouldn’t stop coming for Laurel because they considered her a threat to their operations. So, either he needed to remove the power players and make them think twice about retaliating against Laurel for her remarks on television, or he needed to disrupt their operations in the city to the point that it would be more costly to them to be harried by the Green Arrow then to let Laurel speak her mind.

“Tonight is going to be very busy,” Oliver said, deciding on a course of action. He would rather deal with known quantities in Xi Shan and Chien Na Wei, which meant he would need to go after the Triad’s operations. “I’ll hit their people-smuggling operation first, then the narcotics ring.” Oliver turned to Diggle. “Keep an eye on things around here.” Oliver headed towards the stand where his suit and weapons were waiting.

**_*DC*_ **

The Green Arrow scurried across the tops of cargo containers at the port controlled by the Triad via Martin Somers, keeping low with his bow held tightly in his grip and a hand holding position over his quiver, ready to draw and fire at a second’s notice. “G.A., eye in the sky says we got ten targets littered about fifty yards ahead, a mass of heat signatures inside a shipping container,” Henry said over the comms.

“ **Understood,** ” Green Arrow replied softly, picking up the pace a little. He slowed as he approached the end of the fifty yards. There was a large open space between several containers, and ten Triad thugs were armed, some moving about the space in a patrol. Two patrols of two armed guards; two more stood guard in front of one container, likely the one that held the mass of heat signatures. The Triad partnered with human trafficking rings, sending the poor and disenfranchised of Starling out into the world for profit. Malcolm and his ilk turned a blind eye since they saw such people as being a drain on society in Starling. Finally, the last four were seated around a card table, playing poker. Green Arrow studied the patrol pattern for ten minutes, considering his options. He knew that this one wasn’t going to be as easy as fighting Constantin Drakon was. He was going to have to make use of more brutal measures.

Drawing an explosive arrow, Green Arrow primed it and then drew it back, firing it at the center of the card table. It exploded on impact, sending the four Triad thugs sprawling to the ground with budding first- and second-degree burns on their hands and faces. Green Arrow drew a lethal arrow and fired, the arrow piercing through the right shinbone of one of the container guardsmen. Another arrow saw his partner join him as the patrolling Triad converged on the source of the arrows. Green Arrow flipped over their heads as they raised their weapons, firing another explosive arrow at their feet as he handed and rolling away from the gunfire before the explosion threw the Triad against the container he had been standing on.

Green Arrow stood and fired containment arrows at the Triad on the ground. “ **Fyff, send an anonymous tip to Lieutenant Franklin Pike of the Major Case Unit,** ” Green Arrow said, knowing that with Quentin focused on keeping Laurel safe there was no way the detective would leave his daughter to investigate an anonymous tip. “ **Provide intel on what they’ll find. With any luck, one of these bastards will turn on Somers as well.** ” Green Arrow crossed the open space, ignoring the pained moans of the Triad, and knocked out the two that had been guarding the container and were struggling to reach their weapons again with his bow. Then he opened the container.

Inside, men, women, and children huddled together with a handful of buckets available to use for waste. The smell roiled Green Arrow’s stomach, but what made his stomach churn even worse was the looks of desolation which slowly turned to hope as they saw the figure that had lit up screens in the last week standing in the opening. “ **It’s alright,** ” Green Arrow said softly, kneeling so that he was at eye level with the huddled mass of people. “ **The police are on their way. You’re going to be alright.** ”

“Thank you,” one man half-sobbed, holding his toddler daughter to him. “Thank _you_.”

Green Arrow nodded before standing and moving away from the container. It sickened him that something like this could happen in his city. “ **Change of plans,** ” he informed his partners via comms. “ **First, I’m gonna have a little chat with Mr. Somers myself.** ”

“Cops’ll be there soon,” Fyff informed him.

“ **This won’t take long…** ” Green Arrow headed off to the offices Somers ran his businesses from, fury racing in his veins. He was about to teach Martin Somers what it meant to bring this kind of sickness and suffering to his city.

Somers had two guards with him. Green Arrow activated a recording device on his belt before he fired a zipline arrow and zoomed across it on his bow, crashing through the window of the offices and firing arrows into the legs of Somers’ two guards, crippling them. He followed this up with knock-out blows with his bow before he drew and nocked another arrow, aiming it at Somers. “ **Martin Somers, you’ve failed this city,** ” Green Arrow snarled. “ **Hands on the desk.** ” Somers trembled with his hands in the air. Green Arrow drew the arrow back threateningly. “ **Now.** ” Somers put his hands on the desk, trembling. “ **You’re even more despicable than I thought,** ” Green Arrow sneered at the man. “ **What you did to Victor Nocenti is only the bottom of the barrel. You know what the Triad get up to out there and you do nothing. How many innocents have you watched be sent away from their homes and loved ones, never to see them again? How many!?** ”

“I-I dunno,” Somers managed, terrified that this archer was going to feel the sudden urge to turn him into a pincushion. “Look, let me live, and I’ll confess to everything, I swear! I had the Triad kill Victor Nocenti! I’ve known about the people-smuggling operation, but they paid me well to keep quiet! It’s not like anyone _cares_ about those wretches anyways!”

“ ** _I_ care!**” Green Arrow fired the arrow, which punched through Somers’ right hand, pinning him to the desk. Somers howled in pain, but before he could move his other hand to try and pull the arrow out, another arrow had joined the first, pinning his left hand to the desk. Green Arrow strode up and delivered a solid right hook to the sobbing man’s temple, knocking him out. He pulled the recording device off his belt and deactivated it, placing it lightly on Somers’ back. “ **Got what I needed from Somers,** ” he reported to Fyff and Dig. “ **Heading to the narcotics ring now.** ”

**_*DC*_ **

The warehouse where the Triad ran their narcotics operation out of was deep in the Glades, but it was lightly secured due to being well into Triad territory. Green Arrow infiltrated the warehouse from the roof and crept along a catwalk, looking down on the warehouse floor and finding each and every enemy. There were over a dozen, each of them patrolling between the stacks of crates containing the drug supply. Green Arrow activated his comms. “ **Fyff, can you deactivate the fire suppression system at this warehouse?** "

“Sure can,” Fyff said. “Why?”

“ **We’re too deep in Triad territory for the cops to come based on an anonymous tip,** ” Green Arrow replied softly. “ **So, I’m going to burn this supply instead. Link up to each arrow as I fire it, and when I give you the signal, blow it.** ”

“Got it, G.A.,” Fyff replied.

Green Arrow crept along the catwalks overlooking the warehouse floor, firing explosive arrows into stacked crates, making sure to keep them out of sight of the patrolling Triad members. He had brought a plentiful supply of explosive arrows, knowing this was a possibility based on the intel that Henry had pulled up back at the A.R.G.U.S. safehouse. It took him almost a half an hour and two close calls of being spotted, but he had finished tagging the center crate in each stack with an explosive arrow. Green Arrow exited back to the roof.

“ **Prime the explosives, give me a ten-count, then blow them,** ” Green Arrow ordered into the comms. He raced to the edge of the roof and fired a zipline arrow down to a building near to the alley where he had parked his bike. He had just arrived on the lower roof when explosions could be heard coming from inside of the warehouse. Green Arrow smirked in satisfaction. The Triad had lost a lot of profit tonight and would be recovering for months. Combine that with the confession he’d gotten from Somers, and Laurel should be safe.

**_*DC*_ **

Oliver set his bow back on its mounted stand in the A.R.G.U.S. safehouse, unzipping the ‘jacket’ that was the top of his first uniform. He missed the later uniforms designed by Cisco, sans perhaps the sleeveless one since that had resulted in a tactical vulnerability that they had had to have Cisco deal with via the next iteration of the suit, which he had worn from after the capture of Zytle to his and Felicity’s departure from Star City to go to the cabin. He really should have made himself aware of everything that went with those suits the way he had done at this point in time; it would’ve made it easy to replicate. Still, wearing the old ‘Hood’ uniform had it’s own charm. “Any reports coming into the police band about the warehouse?” Oliver asked.

“Yeah, reports came in from concerned citizens,” Fyff replied. “The fire department arrived and put out the blaze. The Triad had made themselves scarce, no witnesses to the fire, but there was enough left over for them to figure out this was the Triad’s main hub for narcotics and call in the police. A Detective Hall is leading the investigation.”

“Good,” Oliver said, vaguely recalling the last time that he had seen McKenna Hall. She had been in the hospital, her leg shattered by a shotgun blast from Helena Bertinelli. Speaking of, he needed to figure out when Helena started her spree because even if the Triad were weakened, they could still be a threat if Helena used them to try and bring down her father’s empire. “I know McKenna Hall. She’s a good person. Incorruptible. A bit like Laurel in that regard. She won’t be bought off by the Triad.”

“I gotta ask this, man,” Diggle said quietly. “Was tonight solely about keeping Laurel safe?”

“No,” Oliver said. “Though I understand why you might think that. While keeping her safe _was_ one of the objectives, I was also intent on sending a message. For too long the Triad, the Bertinellis, the Bratva, all of them have profited from the suffering of others in this city. Have you seen the reports from the docks yet?”

“Yeah,” Diggle said, grimacing. “That made me sick.”

“Imagine being the one to see those people in such a situation,” Oliver replied quietly. “Believe me, Dig, _everything_ I do is to make this city a better, safer place for _everyone_. Laurel has the same desires, same goals that I do, but she does it using the law. She’s gotten some harsh lessons as to what kind of corruption has taken hold in this city but she’s going to keep challenging that. And yes, I’m going to be there to help her, protect her, because I already watched Sara ‘die’ twice and I’ve suffered through nightmares of Laurel dying. I won’t let those nightmares become a reality. But never doubt my commitment to making this city a better place for everyone.”

“I understand, sir,” Diggle replied. “But if I ever feel like you’re slipping, I reserve the right to remind you.”

“That’s why you’re here, John,” Oliver replied with a small smile. “To be my conscience when I start to slip.” Diggle nodded in a satisfied sort of way, and Oliver headed off to change.

**_*DC*_ **

Laurel Lance was going over files sent over from C.N.R.I. at her father’s coffee table, her father going over his own case files from work and both drinking a cup of coffee when there was a knock at the door. Laurel stiffened out of reflex, while Quentin stood, hand straying to his hip where his gun was resting. Quentin went to the door, looking out through the peephole, and relaxed as he recognized the person on the other side, Laurel relaxing upon seeing her father’s reaction. Quentin opened the door and gestured for Franklin Pike and Lucas Hilton to enter. “Frank, Lucas,” Quentin greeted with a small smile as his boss and partner entered the apartment. “What brings you by?”

“I wanted you two to hear it from me first,” Frank said quietly. “We, or rather _I_ , got an anonymous tip that sent us to the docks that Martin Somers operates out of. What we found there is almost unconscionable, yet we saw it with our own eyes. We’re still trying to process it all.”

“Sit, sit,” Quentin said, taking a seat next to Laurel and putting an arm around her shoulder. Martin Somers was the reason she was having to live with round the clock police protection in the first place. “What happened, Frank?”

“The Triad were running a human smuggling operation out of those docks,” Frank replied. “There were fifty people, men, women, and children all packed tightly into a shipping container, afraid to come out until they saw us. The Triad had been knocked out or incapacitated, as had Somers and his two bodyguards. We even have a recorded confession from Somers that he had Victor Nocenti killed and knew all about the human smuggling. It’s a slam dunk case.”

“So, Laurel’s safe now, right?”

“We’re not sure, to be honest,” Frank replied. “I’d give it another twenty-four hours to be safe, Laurel,” he added kindly, looking at the young attorney, who nodded her assent. “The crux of the matter, though, is that the evidence points to one person being at the docks before us. The Green Arrow. Which means he sent the anonymous tip that led us there. He sent it to _me_ , Quentin. I don’t understand why. And we just heard on our way over here that Narcotics is investigating a warehouse fire that’s right in the middle of Triad territory. Again, it appears the Green Arrow was on the scene.”

“How the hell is he getting this information?” Quentin asked, perplexed.

“That’s why we’re here,” Frank replied uncomfortably. “The Green Arrow’s speech mentioned a Tempest, the same as the man who saved Laurel. Laurel is the one who was prosecuting Martin Somers and threatened by the Triad, and now the Green Arrow delivers up a confession from Somers and cripples _two_ of the Triad’s operations that’ll take them months to recover from and unable to threaten anyone seriously, according to the boys in Gangs. We have to ask Laurel if she knows who this man is, because he clearly knows her.”

“Laurel?” Quentin asked reluctantly.

“I don’t know who the Green Arrow is, and I’m not sure if he and the man in black are one and the same,” Laurel said. “I’ve not been contacted by anyone new. There’s no new guys in my life who might think to impress me this way. In fact, the last serious relationship I had was with Oliver, and he was a billionaire playboy.” She kept quiet on her thoughts that Oliver might be the man in black or the Green Arrow, or both if they were one and the same. She needed to know that for herself before she spoke such suspicions aloud, and in truth she doubted she would ever voice those suspicions to those who were trying to _stop_ the Green Arrow. “All I know is that the Green Arrow, whether he’s the man in black or not, has done something the police couldn’t and the people in the Glades will be far safer as a result. So you’ll forgive me if I don’t feel like searching my memory for tiny details.”

“Laurel,” Quentin began.

“No, Dad,” Laurel said sharply. “I’ve nearly died _twice_ in less than two weeks. The police were useless the first time and if Ollie hadn’t been there with his bodyguard the second time, those cops _and_ I would both be dead. Rather than hunt him down, you should be looking to thank Green Arrow and maybe look into this Tempest, this Undertaking, instead of passing them off as conspiracy ravings. It’s clear the Green Arrow has information you don’t about Starling. I’ll side with _anyone_ who will fight against the corruption, Daddy. I’m sorry, but I will.”

“We’ll go,” Lucas said uncomfortably, knowing this was the beginnings of another father-daughter row. Pike and he left as the two Lances looked at each other, eyes turning hard. That was the thing about the Lance family; they were opinionated and hard-liners about their opinions.

**_*DC*_ **

Xi Shan waved a dismissive hand at the operative who had reported the loss of the warehouse, which had come only a short time after the loss of their human trafficking operation at the docks. China White was waiting nearby, twirling her blades as usual, but with a nervous energy this time. Xi Shan remained silent as he contemplated the loss in profits the Triad would see from these two operations. Without it, they couldn’t afford to pay most of their men, who would seek out employment with other Triad gangs across the country. Worse, they knew exactly who to blame for this and could do nothing directly against him.

The Green Arrow was Oliver Queen, an A.R.G.U.S. asset who appeared to be operating independently now but who still seemed to be receiving at the very least tacit approval and protection from A.R.G.U.S. China White had first encountered Queen three years ago in Hong Kong and he had been a thorn in their side even then. But this was beyond simply being a thorn in their side; this weakened their ability considerably. All this, because they had gone after the woman Queen had cheated on with her sister. “ _We should strike back against Queen,_ ” China White said in Mandarin.

“ _And have him decimate our operations further?_ ” Xi Shan replied in kind. “ _Know when we are beaten, Chien._ ”

“ _But we could exact our vengeance on Queen and replenish our cash flow at the same time,_ ” China White replied calmly.

Xi Shan turned to her, intrigued. “ _Explain,_ ” he stated.

“ _His sister,_ ” China White replied. “ _Take her, her friends, hold them for ransom from their loving families. Return all but her. Her, we break in retribution._ ”

Xi Shan considered the possibilities. The wealthy of Starling City _would_ pay a King’s Ransom for their children. “ _Follow her,_ ” he finally said. “ _Find where we can take the most of them._ ” China White bowed and departed, already knowing the best place to find Thea Queen was the club circuit.

**_*DC*_ **

Sara Lance, or Taer Al-Sahfer as she was known in this place, was sparring with Nyssa al Ghul, her lover and (in the early days) protector, all while knowing the ever-watchful, ever-judging eyes of Ra’s al Ghul were watching her and every other sparring match in the main hall. When she had first met Ra’s and looked into his eyes, she had laughed because for once, here was a man who didn’t think of her as a potential conquest or as someone to force himself on; no, his only concern was whether she would be a worthy warrior. Yet she always felt there was something more to his dark gaze; not longing, as was the case in most men’s eyes when they lit upon her All-American girl looks and curvy body. No, there was something just _off_ about what Ra’s al Ghul saw when he looked at her, and Sara had no way of knowing exactly what it was that he did see, though she could guess. Ra’s was a man trapped in the past, where women were meant to be silent and paired with men. Her relationship with Nyssa was an affront to such a belief system and she suspected only the fact he had already lost one Heir with his ways kept him from making an example out of Sara, whatever it was he saw in her be damned.

The doors to the Great Hall opened, and Ra’s raised a hand, bringing the sparring to an end as Sarab entered the Great Hall. “My lord,” Sarab said, coming to the foot of the steps leading up to the throne upon which Ra’s sat and kneeling. “I bring tidings from our agents in America. There is… unsettling news out of Starling City.”

“Leave us,” Ra’s said loudly, eyes flickering to the sparring assassins. They began to trickle out one-by-one. “Taer Al-Sahfer, Nyssa, stay and listen.” Nyssa joined her father while Sara stood off to the side, looking at Sarab. What news could possibly be unsettling from Starling City? “What is this news you bring?”

“It will be easier to show you, my lord,” Sarab replied, retrieving a tablet from his satchel and activating it. Technology was a rare sight in Nanda Parbat. Sarab pulled up a downloaded video as Sara climbed up one step so she would have a better view, and then played it for the three in the room.

A man in a green, hooded uniform, wearing a quiver, and wielding a bow stood against an otherwise black background. Sara’s breath caught in her throat, because she recognized that hood. “ **For too long, this city has lived in fear and darkness. It is being ruled from the shadows by a criminal elite who do not care who they hurt, so long as they maintain their wealth and power. They do not care about the children who suffer for days without food. They do not care about those who die because of faulty wiring in their buildings. They do not care about those who suffer mentally, physically, and emotionally from the lives they are forced to lead because of these ‘chosen few’, these men and women who hold themselves above the law. These criminals who dare to name themselves _upstanding citizens_ of Starling City. Yet in all this darkness, despair, and fear, there lives a spark of hope. I know there are people in this city who, like me, believe that while life is filled with darkness, that darkness can be defeated by the light. _Hope_ is that light. Hope for a better tomorrow, a future where our children can play in our streets without fearing being kidnapped, where women can walk down our sidewalks without fearing assault, where families can grow and learn and make this city shine like a beacon of hope to the world. Tonight, I am declaring my intention to stand with these people, to fight for this city, to be the symbol of hope it needs in its darkest hour. If the police, the District Attorney, and the courts will not see justice done, _I_ will. And to the architect of this age of darkness and despair, I say this: your Undertaking will fail. Your Tempest will be broken. And you will face justice for _all_ the lives that you have destroyed in your madness. I am coming for you. I am the Green Arrow.**” Sarab shut down the tablet to conserve its power and waited for the inevitable questioning.

“I fail to see the unsettling news,” Ra’s said calmly. “We have known Starling suffers from problems with corruption and criminality for many years.”

“The unsettling news, my lord, is that this news about this Green Arrow didn’t come from our agent in Starling City,” Sarab replied. “It came from Central City, and Coast City, and even from agents who saw it mentioned as far away as Gotham. But from our agent in Starling City, nothing has been said. In fact, the last thing we heard, the _only_ thing we have heard for many years, is that your former Horseman is ‘making progress’. Yet never is the progress explained.”

“Speak your mind, Sarab,” Ra’s said.

“I believe I know who this Green Arrow is,” Sarab said. “I believe his name to be Oliver Queen. I knew Oliver. He was my friend and helped me avenge my son’s death. He wore a green hood like that once and was proficient with a bow and arrow. I double-checked with our agents and the news feeds _do_ report that Oliver Queen has recently returned to Starling City.”

“I can back up Sarab’s assertion that this is Oliver,” Sara said, turning to face Ra’s. “That hood… Oliver was wearing it the last time I saw him, before Slade threw me out of the _Amazo_.”

“My former employer retrieved Oliver from the _Amazo_ and forced him to become her agent,” Sarab supplied. “It is possible he is her agent even now. Oliver had in his possession a book with a list of names, people who had failed Starling City or been involved with the criminal element. He learned more about it during a mission to Starling before we parted ways. He was… quite disturbed at what was revealed and wouldn’t tell me what he had learned.”

Ra’s stroked his beard thoughtfully. “I believe it is time we took a closer look at what is happening in Starling City,” Ra’s mused. “Taer Al-Sahfer, you shall return to your home and learn all that you can about what Mr. Queen is fighting against. Find out why our agent in Starling has reported none of these events and seek out my former Horseman, Malcolm Merlyn, for intelligence on the city if need be.”

“Master, may we speak privately for a moment?” Sara asked, wincing as his gaze landed on her. After a moment, he nodded and waved dismissively at Nyssa and Sarab, the former of whom gave Sara a curious glance as she left. Once the doors had closed behind Sarab and Nyssa, Sara spoke again. “I-I don’t know if I’m the right person for this task, Master. Going to Starling will put me at risk of being discovered by others, including my family.”

“Yes, I know,” Ra’s said quietly, standing and descending the steps. He cupped her chin in his hand and forced her to meet his dark gaze. “I have known for some time now that you are never truly going to be one of us,” he said quietly. “Your compassionate heart will allow you only so much death before you will feel the need to break away. This provides us both an opportunity. For you, the chance to retake your former name and former life. For me, to rid the League of one who is not truly committed to it. But before you leave the League, you must provide one last service. Discover what we need to know about the events in Starling City.”

“Y-Yes, Master,” Sara managed, and departed after Ra’s motioned for her to do so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter. It was a bit difficult to write at the beginning, but I think it really took off after that first scene.
> 
> I *almost* feel sorry for Xi Shan and China White.
> 
> And yep, Sara’s on her way back to Starling. Way I see it, Ra’s would take the opportunity to get rid of the person he knows won’t be loyal to the League because he met her future self sixty-some years in the past. That’s obviously what they’ve made Ra’s’ reason for not seeing Sara as one of them, so I’m rolling with it.


	11. Vendetta

The Green Arrow was in the midst of a patrol in the Glades the night following his two-fold takedown of the Triad’s most lucrative businesses. So far, he had managed to stop three robberies in progress and saved the life of a little old lady crossing the street when an out of control truck came careening out of nowhere. Small stuff, but every bit as important as his battle against corruption. The little old lady had been very grateful, telling him she wished there were more people in Starling like him, people willing to put their lives on the line for the good of everyone and not just those in power. It was a testament to the extent of the corruption Merlyn had permeated the city with that the little old lady had been so effusive in her joy at being alive and someone helping another person without thought of reward.

A scream for help caught Green Arrow’s attention and he picked up his pace, racing across the rooftops in the direction of the scream, which had come from an alleyway two buildings over from where he had been. Crouching on the ledge of one of the buildings overlooking the alley, Green Arrow found himself looking down on a gang of thugs who were encircling a young woman dressed in a Big Belly Burger uniform. The intended victim was perhaps eighteen or nineteen with dark hair and eyes, porcelain-like skin tone, and right now her slight frame was trembling but there was a resignation to her expression, as if this had happened before or she had heard of it happening. Regardless, this ended now.

Green Arrow nocked an arrow, but before he could fire, another figure entered the alley, a figure dressed in a familiar red hoodie. Roy Harper leaped at the gang-banger closest to him, throwing a solid right hook. The gang-banger blocked it and jutted his head forward, headbutting Roy and splitting the younger man’s lip. Roy staggered but rallied and raised his fists, preparing to fight all the gang-bangers. “Go!” he shouted at the girl, who tried to run, only to be blocked by two of the gang-bangers.

Green Arrow shifted his aim, breathed, and fired. The green-tinted arrow shot down, making a light whistling noise as it split the air in its path, and sliced its way into the calf of one of the gang-bangers blocking the girl’s path. She took advantage of the man’s weakened state as he cried out in shock and pain and darted past him, the sound of her light footsteps retreating as she fled. Green Arrow leap-frogged down to the alley between the two fire escapes and landed in a crouch, rising as he faced the gang-bangers, who encircled him, save for the one who was focusing on Roy. “No one interferes with our fun, Greenie,” one of them sneered drunkenly and tried to strike Green Arrow with the bat he was carrying. Green Arrow blocked the bat with his bow and delivered a high kick to the drunken man’s jaw, sending him reeling backwards onto the alleyway floor. Green Arrow didn’t remain idol, diving into a series of strikes with his bow, his fists, and his legs to bring down the gang-bangers around him, the snapping of breaking bones filling the air as he disabled them. Soon, the only one left was the one beating on Roy, who appeared to be barely conscious, his face swollen. Green Arrow fired an arrow with a cable attached and yanked as soon as the arrowhead had lodged itself in the gang-banger’s shoulder. The gang-banger flew over his head as he ducked and landed on a dumpster.

Firing a bolo arrow that kept the man contained, Green Arrow went to check on Roy and grimaced. His apprentice from another timeline had always been better at taking beatings rather than giving them in the early days, and it showed. Though it certainly proved that Roy Harper had the heart of a hero that he was trying to do things to stop what was happening in the Glades even without the training he later received from the vigilante that had been known at the time as the Arrow. That was what had impressed Green Arrow, all those years ago. Roy’s strength of will and his goodness of character, despite the hardships he faced in the Glades, had made him into a man who couldn’t sit by and watch the suffering of those around him without doing something about it. **_*1*_**

Green Arrow was hesitant to change the timeline too much, but Roy needed medical attention and it would take a long time for the cops to arrive. And even if they did arrive, who knew if they would take Roy for an aggressor. He wouldn’t take Roy to his base, he decided, remembering that at this time, the Merlyn clinic was still active. Green Arrow pulled Roy onto his shoulders in a fireman’s carry and headed off down the street. Luckily, the clinic was nearby; it was possible the girl had even run there for help.

As Green Arrow entered the doors of the clinic, he found that that was precisely the case. “ **Need some help here,** ” Green Arrow said as he took note of a cluster of volunteer doctors, including (to his surprise) Dr. Eliza Schwartz, the doctor who had called Laurel’s time of death and become the main doctor Team Arrow had seen when they needed medical attention. Dr. Schwartz was the first to respond, ignoring the oddity of having the city’s already-infamous vigilante appear. They had surmised he was nearby from their latest patient, who was being treated for shock over her near-assault.

“What do we have?” Dr. Schwartz asked calmly.

“ **Took quite a beating to keep the gang-bangers off the girl,** ” Green Arrow said as two orderlies brought a gurney around. He laid Roy on it. “ **The ones responsible are all unconscious in the alley.** ” Green Arrow paused for a moment. “ **They may need medical attention as well, though they can always get it at Starling General after the cops do their jobs.** ”

“We’ll take it from here,” Dr. Schwartz said with a nod. Green Arrow returned the nod and turned to go. “If I may ask?” Green Arrow turned to face her. “Why do you do what you do? Some might think you’re seeking glory with that announcement over the television.”

“ **I do what I do because that is what the city needs,** ” Green Arrow said. “ **If I was in this for glory, I’d let my identity be known.** ” Green Arrow turned and walked out the door of the clinic before any further questions could be asked.

**_*DC*_ **

Dinah Laurel Lance took a shaky breath as she walked into her apartment with her father by her side. The apartment had been cleaned up after the crime scene boys had done their job, so there was no sign of what had happened here, but Laurel could still remember everything from both her own kidnapping and from the assault by the Triad assassin that Oliver had fought. She could still remember Oliver, leaning against the wall outside of her bedroom door and his shoulder soaked in blood, mumbling about staying awake. Seeing one of her best friends from childhood in such a state, much less one she had dated and still loved despite what he had done, had been a shock to her system. She had known that doing what she did could be dangerous, especially when targeting men like Hunt and Somers, yet these events had really driven the point home for her.

“You okay, Laurel?” Quentin asked concernedly as he watched his daughter take in her apartment and breathe shakily. He had thought it might be too soon for her to come back, but a part of him thought that was just the overprotective father in him wanting to keep an eye on his little girl for a little while longer. “I know a lot’s happened here. It’s okay to be afraid.”

“That’s just it, Daddy,” Laurel said quietly. “I’m not afraid; at least, not completely. It’s more than fear. It’s _anger_. How the hell did these people get to be so powerful? How can they just do what they do without impunity? What happened to justice in this city? What happened to being safe in our own homes, to our children being able to play in the streets without us fearing they’ll disappear, to people _helping each other!?_ ”

Quentin listened as his daughter raged quietly beside him, a deep feeling of guilt coming over him regarding a secret that he had kept from her all of these years. He guided her quietly to the couch, his subdued attitude causing Laurel to fall silent and worry over her father’s reaction to her words. Once they were both seated on the couch, Quentin looked at her. “Laurel,” Quentin began, “there’s an understanding between the police and organized crime. I don’t know who brokered it. But so long as they aren’t overt in their actions, the S.C.P.D. looks the other way. This goes right to the top, I think, to the commissioner himself. It’s why I’m in the M.C.U. I’d rather deal with people I hate and can actually go after than be strangled by invisible red tape that has nothing to do with being a cop.” **_*2*_**

Laurel was silent as she took in what her father had said. “How long have you known about this?” she asked quietly.

“For years, Laurel, since you were in high school,” Quentin said.

“Why haven’t you said anything? Done anything?” Laurel demanded to know.

“Because of things like what’s been happening to you since you decided to start a one-woman war on Hunt, the Triad, and whoever else you’re thinking of challenging through C.N.R.I.!” Quentin replied heatedly. “I was trying to protect you, and Sara, and your mother! I still am trying to protect you and Dinah, even if she hates my guts for being what I am now! It wasn’t just losing Sara that drove me to the bottle, Laurel! It was losing her despite doing everything I could to protect her! And now you’re bringing the danger on yourself, and I can’t stop you, and I can’t lose you like I lost her! I can’t, Laurel! Please… just stop.”

Laurel’s eyes welled with tears and she placed a hand on her father’s cheek. “I can’t,” she said, her voice breaking. “This city needs to change. I can’t just forget what’s happened. I can’t stand by while innocent people suffer. It’s not who you raised me to be, Daddy. If I stop, if I ignore the people who are suffering, I might as well have died on that dock with Hunt. Because what you’re asking for me to do isn’t living, isn’t being who I am.” Laurel let out a quick, harsh sob, and Quentin pulled her into a hug.

“I know, baby,” Quentin said, closing his eyes. “I know. But I’m asking you to, anyways. I can’t lose you. I’ve already lost Sara. Don’t make me bury another daughter. I won’t last long after you’re gone, baby.”

“I’m sorry, Dad,” Laurel said quietly. “But I can’t do what you’re asking me to do, and you can’t protect me forever. But we both know I’m not alone in this fight. Trust him, Dad. I think he wants what’s best for this city.”

“He’s a vigilante, an anarchist,” Quentin rebuked. “All he’ll do is bring more darkness and despair to this city trying to fight these guys. He’s not the first to try and all it did was cause more strife in the Glades, Laurel. Stay away from the Green Arrow.”

“And if I don’t?” Laurel asked, wiping her eyes and meeting her father’s gaze defiantly. “What will you do? Arrest your own daughter? Would you rather see me in an orange jumpsuit, surrounded by the people I helped put away, than free and helping to put a stop to the corruption choking this city? I’m not going to be you, Dad. I’m not going to ignore what’s happening for my own safety. No matter who I have to work with. And if you can’t accept that, maybe it’s time for you to leave.”

Quentin looked at his daughter, shocked, and recognized his own stubbornness in the set of her jaw. Quentin swallowed and stood before leaving. He wouldn’t give up on convincing Laurel not to continue down this path, but for now it was probably best to let things cool.

**_*DC*_ **

Oliver closed his eyes as the scalding hot water rained down on his naked form, soothing the bruises that were forming where the gang-bangers from last night had gotten in a few lucky hits. He raised his face to meet the water stream and ran one hand over it. Despite the fact he had been back for only a little over a week, it felt like he had spent a lifetime patrolling the streets. Then again, he had in another life so perhaps it was just remembrance of what had been that was haunting him. As he let the water soak into his sore muscles and loosen them up, Oliver thought over all of the changes that had been wrought by his actions.

Laurel was now the head of C.N.R.I. and had faced not one but two attempts on her life in a short span of time. That had to be doing something to her and Oliver didn’t know if he had the right to suggest to her that she seek counseling to deal with what had happened. God knows he wasn’t looking forward to his first session with Dr. Green later today. Oliver also doubted that Green Arrow’s involvement in Laurel’s life had endeared him to Quentin Lance any more than it had in the last timeline when he had been the Hood.

The Triad was all but wiped out. Oliver suspected that what remained of the Triad in Starling were already scattering to other cities, the more lucrative ones that didn’t have a vigilante acting as guardian over the streets. Still, Oliver wasn’t going to count out the Triad completely just yet until he got confirmation from his underworld contacts that China White and Xi Shan had left Starling altogether. Xi Shan, he simply didn’t know enough about to know if the man would cede Starling to his control without a fight, but China White had proved too often that she was a wily, cunning, and vengeful foe. More importantly, she knew that Oliver was Green Arrow. Oliver had been surprised in the previous timeline that she had never acted against him for what happened during their previous dances, but then, he had never crippled the Triad in the last timeline.

He was due to take up a position at Queen Consolidated as the head of the Applied Sciences division. If things went according to plan, then he would be in the perfect position to hold Merlyn’s Undertaking hostage once Unidac Industries was under his control. That was, of course, assuming he didn’t take Merlyn down come Christmas since the Unidac merger hadn’t been finished until shortly before he had confronted the Dodger during the last timeline. He was also poised to take control of Queen Consolidated if he needed to do so should the worst happen, and Walter was taken by Merlyn as he had been in the previous timeline. Oliver intended to be a far better C.E.O. of Queen Consolidated this time around if it came to that. He knew that the way things were set up, normally the C.O.O., Ned Foster, handled the day to day and the C.E.O. was needed solely for authorizations and board meetings. The number of board meetings during his first year as the Arrow had been unusual, Oliver had been told by Ned Foster, who suspected that Rochev had had something to do with it.

This was all on top of the patrols he performed as Green Arrow every night. His skills were sharpening back up to previous levels as he practiced the training he had been put through by Ra’s and prepared for the inevitable confrontation between himself and Malcolm Merlyn. He hadn’t given himself much time to unwind and relax, he realized, since he had gotten back. He had been almost constantly on the move, making one change or another, using his future knowledge or simply his future mindset regarding various aspects of the mission that he had set for himself. Oliver decided he was going to take the day and do just that, relax. Well, and perhaps work on the remarks his mother and Walter had suggested he have ready for the presentation tomorrow.

Ending his shower with some regret, Oliver wrapped a towel around his waist and exited the bathroom into his bedroom. He selected a simple outfit based on his intended plans (a t-shirt and sweats) and changed into them before heading downstairs to make himself some breakfast, only to stop as he saw that someone was waiting for him, two bodyguards watching over his shoulder as the intruder met Oliver’s shocked gaze calmly.

“Hello, Mr. Queen,” Xi Shan, head of the Starling City Triad, said calmly as though the two of them were meeting on the streets and were casually catching up. “We have much to discuss and very little time to do it in. Please, take a seat.”

Oliver did as requested, all while watching Xi Shan and his bodyguards for any signs of aggression. Aside from the tightening of their muscles indicating they didn’t like how close Oliver was to Xi Shan, the bodyguards did nothing. “Talk,” Oliver finally said.

“Before the day is out, the Triad will no longer be operating in Starling City,” Xi Shan said. “It has become too costly to operate here. You have made it so. But Chien Na Wei cannot accept the change in paradigm. She intends to kidnap your sister and her friends this evening at Club Poison.”

“Why tell me this?” Oliver asked.

“I am an honorable warrior, as you are,” Xi Shan replied. “Deal with her as you will.” Xi Shan stood. “Goodbye, Mr. Queen.” The former Triad boss left the apartment with his men in tow.

 _Well, there goes my plans for a relaxing day,_ Oliver thought dryly.

**_*DC*_ **

Malcolm Merlyn drummed his fingers on his desk as he considered his options. He had discovered that an employee from Queen Consolidated, one Felicity Smoak, was digging into files from five years ago at the behest of Walter Steele. He knew that part of the problem through Moira, who was quite vocal that she could handle Walter if it came down to it and that the real threat came from this Miss Smoak. On the one hand, her past could always come back to haunt her and the police could take care of the problem for him, but all that would do would be to have Walter ask someone else to dig into things from five years ago. While there was nothing truly incriminating in files from Queen Consolidated five years ago, there might be enough to make someone suspicious about the charity that Tempest used to mask it’s activities, and that simply couldn’t be allowed.

Malcolm had brought up everything he could on Felicity Smoak. There was always the third option; he could attempt to indoctrinate Miss Smoak into his line of thinking. She wouldn’t be the first moralistic crusader that he had done this sort of thing to; but she would be the first one he didn’t have full access to. A few enterprising people here at Merlyn Global had discovered parts of his plan and it had taken some smooth talking and promises regarding the events to come after the Undertaking was complete to convince some of them. Others, he had simply made judicious use of threats against their family with his old League armor on. He despised the fact that he had to operate in the shadows as he did, but the League was the last complication he needed with the Undertaking only months away.

Unfortunately, the only way to indoctrinate Miss Smoak would be to kidnap and imprison her while he worked his magic, and, in all honesty, he didn’t think he could split his attention between Miss Smoak and the mysterious Green Arrow. Not with the threat Green Arrow posed to everything he had done to make sure the city, save the Glades, was safe from the criminal filth that poisoned the city with their very presence. So, indoctrination was out. So, too, was allowing the police to handle everything as that would not make Walter think twice about having someone investigate what was going on. He needed to send a message.

Malcolm’s lips twitched into a cold, cruel smile as he envisioned the perfect way to do exactly that. More importantly, he wouldn’t need to act himself and risk exposure. He knew of a very _special_ killer who was always looking to make waves. He would have his agents contact this man and send him word to come to Starling. Perhaps the man could be of some use against other adversaries as well.

**_*DC*_ **

Green Arrow had studied the layout of Max Fuller’s club, Poison, and knew where the best exit was to bring out inebriated teenagers for a quick getaway. As such, he was perched on the ledge of the rooftop looking down on the side alley, contemplating the fact that this was another event that had never happened in the previous timeline that had resulted in danger towards someone that he loved. How many more events might come about of his changes to the timeline if he kept on this course? And yet he had to continue, because if he left things to be exactly the same, then he would lose everything in the end regardless of what he did. _Barry and the others might get some joy out of being a hero,_ Green Arrow thought grimly, _but it’s not always going to be sunshine and rainbows. Especially in Starling City._

A van pulled up in the alleyway and Green Arrow prepared to launch a zipline arrow. He fired as men spilled from the van and slid down on his bow, landing between the discreet club entrance and the men waiting to receive the ‘packages’. Green Arrow’s eyes narrowed in anger as he recognized the men as members of the Starling chapter for the Bratva. For their part, these men had stiffened as they realized who was facing them. Kapushion. He was said to be the new Pakhan’s right-hand man, having helped Anatoli Knyasev secure his position as the new leader of the Bratva. “ **What are you doing working for the Triad bitch?** ” Green Arrow demanded to know in Russian.

“It was said to be good venture for both Triad and Bratva,” one of the men said bravely.

“ **Yes, because it’s smart to kidnap the children of the Starling elite,** ” Green Arrow replied. “ **If you’re not out of here in one minute, I’ll just have to explain to Anatoli why I was forced to kill ten of his men in Starling. I’m sure he’ll understand when I tell him you were working with the enemy.** ” The men started backing away. “ **And tell Leonov I’ll be speaking to him soon enough,** ” Green Arrow added as the men clambered back into the van. There was a shout of assent before the van drove off. Green Arrow melted into the shadows, waiting for Chien Na Wei to appear with her henchmen, Thea, and Thea’s friends.

Soon enough, the doors opened and out spilled the very party Green Arrow was waiting for. Two Triad members had hold of Thea and each of her four friends, with China White in the lead. Green Arrow didn’t hesitate, firing an arrow at one of the men holding onto his sister. The arrow caught the man in the stomach, and he collapsed. It was a painful and almost certainly crippling, but not fatal, shot. Green Arrow continued to fire, striking down most of the Triad before they realized what was going on. “ **Go!** ” Green Arrow shouted at the inebriated teens, and most had their wits about them and ran.

China White managed to snatch Thea before she could make her escape and held her close, a blade held tightly to Thea’s smooth throat in one hand while the other pressed down hard on the teenager’s mouth, keeping her silent. Thea’s hazel eyes were wide with terror, tears shining in her eyes. Green Arrow felt for his sister, knowing nothing had threatened her like this in her innocent life. She had never been in this kind of danger before, and in the last timeline hadn’t faced it until after the Undertaking. “ **Let. Her. Go,** ” Green Arrow growled out. “ **This is between you and I, Chien.** ”

“This is about more than just us, Mr. Queen,” China White replied, causing Thea’s eyes to widen and Green Arrow to feel a sense of resignation at China White’s casual reveal of his true identity. “You’ve changed the balance of power forever in this city. Do you think the Triad are the worst out there? You’ve no idea the depravities the others are capable of. Consider what happens here tonight just a taste of the pain and misery yet to come to this city, thanks to you.” **_*3*_**

Before China White could make good on her promise, though, a metallic _thunk_ sounded, and then a familiar shrieking sound filled the air. China White cringed at the sound, exposing her shoulder for just one moment, and Green Arrow took advantage, firing a shot. China White was spun around, Thea ducking under her arm and running to the emerald-clad form of her brother, who held her close as a black clad woman in a blonde wig bashed China White across the face with a bo staff.

Green Arrow reluctantly took his arm away from his sister to fire a bolo arrow, which wrapped China White up. He turned his attention back to his sister. “ **Speedy, are you okay?** ”

“Ollie?” Thea whispered, reaching up and touching her brother’s face under the hood. “W-What’s going on? H-how are you h-h-him? Who was that woman?”

“ **I’ll answer all your questions when I can, but right now, I need you to keep quiet about what she revealed to everyone,** ” Green Arrow said, kneeling down next to his sister so he could look her in the eyes. “ **What I’m doing is very dangerous, and I became Green Arrow to protect our family and-and others I care about.** ”

“I-I won’t say anything,” Thea promised.

“ **Good. Now call the cops. Get them to pick this scum up.** ” Green Arrow stood and approached the familiar form of The Canary. “ **Seems we have some things to discuss.** ” Green Arrow fired a grappling arrow and pulled the Canary close. “ **Sorry about this,** ” he said quietly and then they were pulled up onto the roof. Thea watched, wondering who the woman in black was and if her brother knew who she was under the wig and mask.

Something deep inside Thea broke at the thought of her brother fighting for his life every night, and she barely managed to dial 911 and report what was going on. She slid numbly to the ground, trying to reconcile the image of her brother with the intimidating figure that had appeared on screens all across Starling City. How was it possible? How could Ollie have become the Green Arrow?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter.
> 
> Sara’s back in town and things look to be heating up for the Emerald Archer if China White’s warning is anything to go by. And what will happen when Oliver and Laurel finally have their talk?
> 
> Now to address an issue I’m sure concerns some people: I’m not a big fan of the whole ‘let’s keep the identity secret from those who can be trusted’ thing. Oliver doesn’t trust his mother or Walter and won’t be revealing the truth to them (though Moira could always figure it out). Thea is trustworthy because regardless of everything else, she loves Oliver and wouldn’t betray him without being manipulated. Laurel is obviously trustworthy, and Oliver has chosen to never lie to her again, so she will find out soon enough depending on what happens in the talk.
> 
> Also, I think an Oliver who has spent a year and a half fighting with everyone knowing who he is isn’t going to be as paranoid and worrisome over people finding out his identity. But maybe that’s just me.
> 
> Chapter Notes:
> 
> *1* If I remember right there was an episode where Roy was going to do something about a grocer or someone who was jacking up prices in the Glades and that’s the same sort of thing Oliver is fighting against in that season on a smaller scale. So I actually don’t think Roy’s tendency to get involved and take a beating started in Season 2.
> 
> *2* Even inebriated, Quentin is too smart to not know there’s crap going on so my head canon is he is aware but he doesn’t mess with the status quo in order to protect the people he cares about.
> 
> *3* China White revealed Oliver’s identity to Thea because as far as she was concerned, she was about to open Thea’s throat to the night air.


	12. Rejection

Green Arrow walked a few steps forward once both he and the Canary were on the roof and then turned to face the disguised Sara Lance. “ **Not that I don’t appreciate the help, but why intervene then? You’ve been following me since I left my apartment,** ” he said quietly. He had sensed someone following him and it had reminded him of when he was being trailed by members of the League of Assassins during his early days training in Nanda Parbat.

“ _We have a lot to discuss and I doubted you’d be in a talkative mood if China White murdered your sister in front of you,_ ” The Canary replied, her own voice disguised by a modulator, a precaution she hadn’t taken during the last timeline and which set Green Arrow on edge. Was this this timeline’s Sara, or the Sara from the future trying to get close to him before she erased his memory of the future? “ _Your announcement regarding this city has drawn many eyes and ears, some benign, others less so._ ”

“ **I wouldn’t consider the League of Assassins to be benign,** ” Green Arrow replied, circling the Canary, who matched him step for step.

“ _How-?_ ”

“ **I was trained by someone familiar with the League and their agents,** ” Green Arrow replied. “ **Now tell me, what brings one of Ra’s al Ghul’s tools to my city?** ”

“ _You spoke of someone behind the corruption and criminality,_ ” The Canary said. “ _Who is it? The League can take care of it, if need be._ ”

“ **And then wipe out most of the city’s population for good measure to give Starling a chance to start fresh? No thanks,** ” Green Arrow replied. “ **We both know that Ra’s al Ghul is a madman who wouldn’t hesitate once he sees the depth of corruption present here.** ”

“ _Who are you to judge the League?_ ”

“ **One who has gone to the extremes the League and their ilk deem necessary and realized that all it does is destroy the soul,** ” Green Arrow replied. “ **There is a storm coming, one that will see organizations that have lasted for centuries wiped clean. Be careful you’re not on the wrong side of history due to misguided loyalty.** ” Green Arrow turned and began walking away. As much as he cared for Sara, as far as he knew, at this point in time she was a loyal agent of Ra’s al Ghul and he wasn’t about to bring that bastard’s judgment down upon his city.

“ _Wait,_ ” The Canary said. Green Arrow continued walking forward, and he heard soft footsteps following him. “Ollie,” Sara’s familiar voice said, “wait. Please.”

Green Arrow turned to face The Canary as she pulled her wig and mask off in one stroke, revealing the blank, yet sad, features of Sara Lance. “We know each other, Ollie,” Sara said. “Do you really think I could do anything that would endanger my family? You? Tommy? Everyone I love lives in Starling.” _That didn’t stop you from running to your timeship and away from everyone who loved you,_ Green Arrow couldn’t help but think bitterly. As much as he cared for Sara, her choices over the past few years (from his perspective) left much to be desired. He wondered if Sara would even mourn his passing in the future, should she have survived the Crisis. But to this Sara, he said nothing, simply watched her silently. “What do you want me to say?” Sara demanded to know.

“ **What is your mission here, Sara?** ” Green Arrow finally asked.

“To ascertain why the one given stewardship of Starling City has said nothing of what’s going on here and to determine exactly what you meant in your message about an architect to this crime and corruption,” Sara said quietly. “He also gave me the option to take up my former life, so long as I perform this final mission for the League.”

“ **I see,** ” Green Arrow mused as he mulled the words over. He had learned the hard way that dealings with Ra’s al Ghul were not black and white. The man may have appeared to be a cult leader living in a backwards society, but he was a far cry from that. He was well-educated and knew how to play with words the way children knew how to play with balloons. “ **Those were his exact words? That you could be released once you fulfilled this final mission?** ”

“Yes,” Sara said.

Green Arrow closed his eyes, steeling himself for what he had to do. “ **Then I am sorry,** ” he said quietly, causing Sara to stiffen before she dropped her mask and wig, reaching behind her for he bo staff. “ **I can’t let you report back to the League, Sara. I won’t let Ra’s’ brand of justice be served here. I have things well in hand and I won’t risk the balance of power even further. Come quietly, please, for the sake of our friendship.** ”

“You should know me better than that, Oliver,” Sara said, extending her bo staff.

“ **Then I will do what I must,** ” Green Arrow replied, and with that he fired an explosive arrow. Sara deflected it with her bo staff, but it exploded on impact with said staff and disoriented her. Green Arrow quickly fired a bolo arrow, wrapping The Canary up like he had once before in the previous timeline, and she toppled sideways onto the ground. “ **For what its worth, I’ll make sure you’re comfortable until this is all over,** ” Green Arrow said quietly as he stabbed her in her exposed chest with a tranquilizer arrow. Really, what had she been thinking giving her foes such an… _ample_ target?

Sara let out a low, slow breath as the sedative did its work. Green Arrow closed his eyes in regret; that was another derivative of tetrodotoxin, fast-acting and it would put the subject into a low-level coma. It was the only arrow of its kind in his arsenal, one he had hoped he would never have to use; one he had prepared in case he ever had to face off with The Flash or the Legends. He hadn’t expected to have to use it on this timeline’s Sara.

“ **Call A.R.G.U.S., tell them I need a special pick-up for-for the Pit,** ” Green Arrow said quietly.

“Roger that, G.A.,” came the subdued voice of Henry Fyff over the comms. He and Diggle had heard the entire confrontation and seen it through a keyhole satellite that A.R.G.U.S. had dedicated to Oliver’s endeavors. The Pit was A.R.G.U.S.’s secure wing, the place they would one day keep the members of the Suicide Squad.

Green Arrow simply waited on the roof for the A.R.G.U.S. chopper to arrive, all the while cursing himself for changing the timeline to the point that Ra’s was already taking an interest in things and wishing he could go back to a simpler time when it was just him versus the bad guys and he didn’t need to betray those he called his friends. He wondered how he was going to look Laurel in the eye now, knowing that her sister was so close to her and yet would be kept in that low-level coma until Merlyn was taken down. _The right path is never easy, yet the road to hell is paved with good intentions,_ Green Arrow thought grimly as he waited. But even he knew this was just a temporary measure. When Sara failed to report in, another agent would be sent, and he would need to decide at that time whether he could make certain exceptions to his code. **_*1*_**

**_*DC*_ **

Oliver Queen’s suit was rumpled from the rushed change into his day clothes at the Bunker, as he had nicknamed the A.R.G.U.S. operations center that he operated out of, and the drive to the hospital. While he had been waiting for the A.R.G.U.S. chopper to arrive to take Sara to the Pit, his phone had been blowing up at the Bunker with messages from his mother about the attack on Thea and her friends and that he needed to get to the hospital. Oliver was already trying to decide what he would say to his mother for why he had been so late, because he refused to go with his old ‘co-ed situations’ excuse. Not only because in his mind he had been a married man but also because, in his mind, there was only one person he wanted to be caught in such a situation with again; but he couldn’t, because whether he liked it or not, Starling City would always need the Green Arrow and he could not be the husband that Laurel Lance deserved.

Oliver entered the hospital and quickly found out where Thea had been taken. Oliver arrived on the appropriate floor and found his mother and Walter there with Dr. Lamb, but to his surprise they weren’t the only ones there. Malcolm Merlyn and his son, Tommy, were also there. Tommy was the first one to spot Oliver. “Ollie, there you are!”

“Sorry, I had my phone turned off, I was trying to come up with some good remarks for tomorrow,” Oliver apologized to his mother, who nodded softly. “Is Thea alright?”

“She’s mostly shaken up by a rather traumatic experience,” Dr. Lamb said. “She did mention her attacker was China White, and the police believe this might have been retaliation for what you did the other night.” He tried to give the news to Oliver as gently as he could, but Oliver had already known this was revenge on him, though not for the reasons the public would ever know.

“What’s happened to China White now?” Oliver asked, looking at his mother.

“She and her thugs are in custody, and the Commissioner has promised to take a personal interest in this matter,” Malcolm said calmly, eyeing Oliver. He remembered how emotional the younger man had been before going on the _Gambit_. He should have been near tears at the idea of his little sister in danger, yet here he was, finding out what was going on calmly and with a sense of purpose. _What happened to you, Oliver?_ Malcolm mused to himself. _And did it make you a threat… or a potential asset?_

Oliver noted Malcolm was studying him surreptitiously but chose not to give anything away, much as he wanted to. “That’s good,” Oliver said. His lips twitched. “Always good to have the top cop on the job.”

“Indeed,” Walter said with a nod. “You should go in and see her, Oliver. She’s been asking for you.”

Oliver nodded and entered the room, closing the door as much as he could. He walked slowly to the bed where his little sister was laying, her curls splayed out across the pillow, and he finally allowed himself to show some emotion. His hands trembled in both anger and sorrow as he sat on the edge of the bed, pulling Thea’s attention away from the view of the city. Her expression remained blank. “Thea,” Oliver said quietly, “I’m so sorry. I never thought she would come after you. I thought she would target me, and me alone.”

“How did she know?” Thea asked quietly. “How did she know and I didn’t?”

“China White and I have a long and complicated history,” Oliver replied just as quietly. “And you’ve never met my other side until tonight. How could you have known it was me?”

“Because you’re different, ever since you came back,” Thea said. “Looking back, it’s so obvious. How didn’t I see what was happening in front of me?”

“Because human beings are blessed with a remarkable capacity for self-deception,” Oliver finally said. “We see only that which we wish to see. You and Mom wanted to see the Oliver that you lost, if only more mature, and that’s what you see.” Oliver placed a hand on Thea’s shoulder. “Speedy, I know it’s hard, but you have _got_ to keep this a secret. No one can know. Not Mom, Walter, not even Tommy. There’s too much at risk, just with what could happen to the people we care about.”

“You didn’t mention Laurel,” Thea said.

“Laurel’s smart and she wants the same things I do,” Oliver said quietly. “I suspect she and I are going to be doing a lot of work together. Speedy, please, promise me.”

“I promise,” Thea said. “But I need you to do something for _me_.”

“Anything,” Oliver replied.

“Train me,” Thea said, and Oliver rocked back in shock, having not expected this. “Train me to fight like you do. I-I never want to be so helpless and terrified again. Please, Ollie. Every time I close my eyes, I-I see her, I feel that knife on my neck. I can’t live with this terror. Please, Ollie.”

“I’ll do it,” Oliver said quietly, and leaned down to hug his little sister. She lurched up in bed and threw her arms around him, leaning her head into the crook of his shoulder and neck. He closed his eyes as her body shuddered with silent sobs, tears soaking his suit jacket. “It’s alright, Speedy, I’m right here. You’re gonna be fine,” he murmured, rubbing her back gently with one hand the way he had done when she was a child and upset about something.

**_*DC*_ **

Oliver waved goodbye to Diggle as the man drove away and entered his apartment building, slowing his pace slightly as he spotted the familiar figure of Laurel Lance sitting in an armchair in the lobby, looking over a large file in her hand. Oliver turned and walked over to Laurel. “Finally ready for that talk?” Oliver asked quietly, and Laurel jerked slightly. She straightened the contents of the folder and stood.

“Ollie, I heard from Tommy about what happened to Thea,” Laurel said softly. “If tonight isn’t a good time, I understand. I wanted to make sure you’re doing alright.”

“No, not really, and the sooner we have this talk the better,” Oliver replied, and the two made their way to the elevator. Oliver pressed the button for his floor and leaned against the back of the elevator, leaning his head backwards and closing his eyes. “It’s been a long night,” Oliver said quietly at Laurel’s curious expression. “To be honest, after everything I’ve done tonight, talking with someone I care about isn’t that much of a struggle.” Laurel flushed slightly at his comment but smiled softly nonetheless, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder to tell him she was here if he needed to talk.

The two entered Oliver’s loft and took a seat on the couch with a couple of glasses of wine to help relax. It was odd for Oliver to see Laurel, his Laurel, drinking alcohol again when she had had to stick with water after her descent into alcoholism during his second year as a vigilante. “This is your show, Laurel,” Oliver finally said, his blue eyes meeting her green ones. “What is it that you want to know?”

“I feel like I’m going crazy here, Oliver,” Laurel said quietly. “You’ve changed so much, and suddenly the city seems rife with people who are willing to take a stand. The man in black, the Green Arrow… both have saved my life in one way or another, the Green Arrow by taking out the Triad’s operations. But the question that I keep asking myself is why? Why me? Who would consider me and what I’m trying to do so important?” Laurel blinked back tears as she remembered those desperate minutes alone in that trunk. “Ollie, you promised me that you would never lie to me again. I need you to fulfill that promise now. Are you the man who saved me from Hunt?”

Oliver was silent for a moment as he considered her question. He had known this was coming and, in the end, he knew she was trustworthy, just like Thea. “Yes,” he said quietly.

“Are you the Green Arrow?”

“Yes,” he said again, and Laurel let out a breath she didn’t know she had been holding in. “You understand the danger this puts you in, knowing who I am and what I’m doing? If anyone learns my identity, you’re at risk just as much as Thea is. China White went after her tonight in order to get revenge.”

“I understand, Oliver,” Laurel said softly. “I’m willing to take the risk. The question is, are you willing to take the risk and let me into your world?”

Oliver was silent again as he considered what she said. The memory of her final moments in the hospital played before his eyes again but was almost immediately superseded by the many times it was Laurel who took on the criminal elite and it had been Oliver who was playing catch-up. “We both know that you and I are too similar for you to _not_ get involved in my world, if only for your own safety,” Oliver finally said, meeting her green eyes. “You want the same things I want, to see our city come out of this age of darkness. You won’t stop pursuing cases against the corrupt any more than I’ll put down my bow. It’s who we are. Better to have you at my side rather than sneaking around behind my back.”

“Ollie, about your message to the city,” Laurel began.

“If you’re about to ask about who the architect is, don’t,” Oliver said sharply. “I don’t want to lie to you, Laurel, but I cannot, will not put you in danger by giving you that information. The person responsible for this is very powerful and controls Starling’s criminal underworld with an iron fist. I’m working on drawing this person into a confrontation so I can capture them, but it’s going to take some time.”

Laurel remained quiet as she listened to what Oliver was saying. “Alright,” she said quietly. “But Ollie, that wasn’t what I was going to ask you.” Surprise flashed across Oliver’s face. “In your message, you said you wanted a future where our children could play in the streets without fearing being taken. Did you mean that in general, or is it something you want for your own children one day?”

Oliver sighed. “I can’t think about stuff like that, Laurel,” he said. “Why?”

“Ollie, when Hunt had me and I thought that I was going to die, I thought about everything I still wanted to do with my life,” Laurel said, setting her empty wine glass aside and taking Oliver’s free hand in her own. “I thought about how I wanted to sit down in the comfort of my own home and curl up with the man that I loved. When I thought about that, there was only one person that came to mind. You.” Laurel scooted closer to Oliver as he watched her with a stoic expression that she might have believed meant he felt nothing, but his eyes spoke volumes. She placed a hand on his cheek. “Despite everything that’s happened, with the _Gambit_ and Sara, your previous cheating… I love you, Oliver Queen.”

“I…” Oliver said, the words sticking in his throat. How could he give her what she wanted when he had so much more already on his plate? “I wish I could be what you need, Laurel,” Oliver finally said, cupping her chin with one hand. “I love you, more than you will probably ever know. But the mission I set for myself will never be over. There will always be someone who wishes to harm another; there will always be those who answer evil’s call. Because that is the horrible truth of the world, Laurel… evil never ends. It just changes forms, and because of what Starling City is, it will always be attracted here. Which means that no matter how much I want this, no matter how much I want _us_ , I can’t give you what you need. You deserve someone who is utterly devoted to you… and Starling City will always need the Green Arrow.”

Laurel flushed at having Oliver reject her, even though he was doing it as kindly as he could. “I-I should go,” Laurel said. “I’ll come by if I need some help with a case.” She stood, going to the counter to grab the file she had been going over when he arrived. Laurel went to the door and turned back. “Is it that Starling City will always need the Green Arrow, or that you’re too afraid to let yourself have a life that you’ve chosen to close yourself off from everything good in your life?” she asked him. “Come find me when you can answer that. I’ll always be waiting for you, Ollie.” She opened the door and left, but not before he heard a choked sob, and he closed his eyes.

 _Oliver, you damned fool, why can’t you just admit what you want?_ He thought to himself.

 _Because,_ a sly voice that sounded like Malcolm Merlyn replied, _you know that you will never be rid of us. We will always come back; we will always go after the ones you care for. Better to keep them at arm’s length then watch them die. Isn’t that right, Oliver?_

Oliver chuckled mirthlessly at the fact he was now having conversations with voices in his head. His therapist would have a field day, if he ever made it to an appointment with her. He had ‘forgotten’ to go to the one that was scheduled for today. Cost of being focused on Xi Shan’s warning, he supposed. He knew his mother would eventually find out and make another appointment, one she would make sure he kept somehow. She wanted things to go back to normal, but Oliver knew things couldn’t go back to normal. Not after everything he had wrought on this city with the few changes he had made to the timeline. **_*2*_**

**_*DC*_ **

Oliver sat on the podium with his family, looking out at the crowd that had assembled. He had gotten used to public speaking as Mayor, so he wasn’t nearly as rattled by the turnout as he had been during the last timeline. “And now, to say a few words, the new head of Applied Sciences at Queen Consolidated, Mr. Oliver Queen,” Walter introduced at the podium, and Oliver stood, passing Walter as the man made his way back to his seat beside Moira. Oliver took his place at the podium, noting that both Tommy and Laurel were here, the latter surprising Oliver considering how they had parted ways last night.

“Good morning,” Oliver said into the microphone. “This is a bittersweet moment. We’re here today to break ground on the future home of Queen Consolidated’s Applied Sciences Division. From here, it is our hope that we will bring a new era to Starling City. Some ask why we would risk this when S.T.A.R. Labs and Harrison Wells are poised to change the world in the years to come. All of life is a risk. We never know when our world will drastically change, or when our lives will be forever altered by the unknown. I’m living proof that we never know what the next day will bring. It is better, by far, to risk it all in the hopes of changing things than to remain curled up, afraid to do what is necessary for survival. That is what all those years on the island taught me, and that is the kind of drive that I will bring to the table as Head of Applied Sciences. We will pursue all avenues of science vigorously and aggressively, in the hopes of making life easier on all mankind.”

Oliver stepped away from the podium to applause from those gathered. His mother stood and hugged him as he returned to his seat and Walter Steele retook his place at the podium, concluding the ceremony and performing the customary ‘breaking of the soil’ all ground-breaking ceremonies. Oliver looked out across the crowd and found Laurel, who was watching him. He couldn’t see it from here, but he was certain a frown was marring her features as she tried to figure him out. If he was so devoted to being Green Arrow, she was no doubt wondering, why was he taking a position in Queen Consolidated? How did that help him in his self-appointed mission? Questions she would no doubt ask him, questions he could never answer because of where those answers would lead the woman he loved.

Oliver really didn’t understand why Barry and Sara thought time travel was so fun or useful. All it seemed to be bringing to him was migraines and heartache. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter. Keeping my mind on how much things can change is an interesting exercise.
> 
> I amused myself with having Oliver align with Merlyn to keep the League at bay but decided that since Oliver is trying to be a more clearly-defined hero he wouldn’t side with one of his greatest enemies on anything but always seek to find a second option. 
> 
> Chapter Notes:
> 
> *1* I’m sure there are plenty of people who are surprised at Oliver’s decision regarding Sara, but I hope I got it across that this was to keep the League from finding out just how bad Starling has become thanks to Malcolm’s machinations. Oliver was trained by Ra’s; he knows what Ra’s is willing to do to a city as decadent as Starling.
> 
> *2* While I would have loved to bring Oliver and Laurel together as a couple right away, I feel Oliver is still very much in the mindset that as much as he loves Laurel, he can never be with her, and is using the fact Starling will always need him as an excuse for not getting involved. Unfortunately for him, he’s forgotten how stubborn Laurel Lance can be.


	13. Nanda Parbat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: A bit of backtracking in this chapter. That’s the risk of writing a story as you post it.

Oliver Queen stood in front of the large window overlooking Starling City that came with his new office at Queen Consolidated, lost in thought. It was difficult to believe that it had been only two weeks since his return; the near-constant battle to keep things intact and keep those he cared about safe had taken its toll on the man, and he finally had a moment’s peace to simply think. The battle for Starling’s soul would be a long one, especially with how widespread the corruption was thanks to Merlyn and his cabal. Even after seven years, he hadn’t gotten rid of the corruption, though his half-sister hadn’t helped with the Ninth Circle supporting Ricardo Diaz’s rise to power. He knew they had been the ones to ‘frame’ him as the Green Arrow who had killed Cayden James’ son.

But as ominous as Malcolm Merlyn and his cabal were, there was a greater threat looming on the horizon. Sara wouldn’t be missed for too long; it had taken a grand total of three weeks for Nyssa to show up, and if that happened again, Oliver didn’t know what he was going to do. This Nyssa was _not_ his ally and was devoted to her father’s cause. In some ways, Oliver would almost prefer if Ra’s sent his own men to discover Sara’s whereabouts since she was _still_ technically a member of the League and had been serving a mission directly from Ra’s. Oliver sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Perhaps the only way to keep the League from making a move was to do the unthinkable: forge an alliance with Merlyn. It was that, or release Sara and _hope_ that she was willing to work with him despite what he had done.

“I remember that look,” a soft voice said from the door to the office, and Oliver turned to see Felicity Smoak standing there. “I knocked, but I don’t think you heard me,” she said quietly. “Oliver, I know things between us aren’t the best, and I told you I wanted nothing to do with the fight since we can’t be together, but… I can’t help but ask what’s wrong.”

“The lesser of two evils,” Oliver replied, turning back to face the cityscape. He felt more than saw Felicity walk up beside him. “My little debut video? It made its way all the way to Nanda Parbat and caused enough of a stir that Ra’s sent Sara to investigate.”

“Frack,” Felicity whispered, remembering too vividly the last time that Ra’s had taken an interest in Starling City. “How do you know he sent her, though?”

“She was there when Thea was almost taken by China White,” Oliver replied. “We talked afterward. Ra’s made a condition of her release that she report back what she finds out. All I could think of is everything we’ve suffered through at the hands of Ra’s and his children. She’s in a low-level, medically-induced coma in the Pit at A.R.G.U.S. But that won’t stop the League indefinitely. We have three weeks, tops, before Nyssa or another assassin comes looking for Sara. If its just another assassin, I can do what I have to do to safeguard the city. But if its Nyssa…”

“Yeah, we don’t want to make Ra’s even more angry than he already is naturally,” Felicity mumbled, not realizing she had said ‘we’. Oliver did, and his lips quirked up. He had wondered if Felicity had been one hundred percent committed to leaving the mission behind. He had had his doubts considering she had spent plenty of time as Overwatch in secret while raising Mia. “What are you thinking?”

“There’s only two options, really,” Oliver said. “Either I wake Sara, hope she’s willing to work with me, and send a message back to Ra’s that I can handle the crime and corruption once I remove the source…”

“Or?” Felicity prompted after a few moments of silence.

“Or I align with Merlyn to safeguard Starling against our mutual adversary,” Oliver replied. “I want to do things _differently_ this time, but I don’t know how committed Sara is to the League right now. I know around this time is when she had a mission that made her question things, but I don’t know if she’s gone on it yet, or ever will now that I’ve done what I did.” Oliver shook his head. “Either way, I risk the city being destroyed by a madman because I’ve exposed my hand. If I ever meet the Barry and Sara _we_ knew, I’m going to shoot them on principle. Time travel is not some toy to be played with like a toddler.”

“Guess you’ve gotten a real crash course on that the past couple of weeks,” Felicity said softly. “I always thought it was kind of awesome. Time travel. But I did see what just the few changes you’ve made have spawned. I wonder if that’s just because of where we live or if its that extreme when Barry and Sara did it and we just don’t know because to us, that was how things always were.”

Oliver nodded in agreement. “Felicity, much as I appreciate your willingness to commiserate, was there a reason you stopped by?”

“I was wondering if you were still willing to let me work with you,” Felicity said after a moment. “I know what I said, but I was frustrated. I’d waited twenty years to be with you again, and I guess I built up the image of our reunion in my head. I know what you said, about us, and while it hurts, it isn’t the first time we’ve broken up. I’m not going to give up on us, but that can take a backseat.”

“Just keep the future comments to yourself, seeing as Dig knows nothing about that,” Oliver said after a moment. Felicity smiled softly and nodded before turning to leave. “I’ll send you a text about where to meet us tonight. In the meantime, I’ll call Waller, tell her to take the loaner she gave us back.”

“Uh, Waller?” Felicity asked.

“Yeah, that’s one of the things that’s different,” Oliver said quietly. “I’m using Waller’s need for an example of someone who gets the job done to get more backing from A.R.G.U.S. than what we got the last time, which was tacit protection. Until Cayden James, that is.” Felicity winced, well-aware of what her bungling with Cayden James had caused, in more ways than one. “Felicity, if you were in my position, which would you do? Wake up Sara, or risk aligning with Merlyn?”

“Wake up Sara,” Felicity said instantly. “We both know Merlyn will use anything he can against you once the threat from the League has passed. Sara might be angry, but she’ll understand protecting her family and friends from what Ra’s could do to this city.”

“Thank you,” Oliver said quietly. “It’s what I was thinking, as well. But you’ve been at this longer than I have, now, technically speaking.” Oliver turned back to the view of the city, feeling more relaxed, as Felicity departed. **_*1*_**

**_*DC*_ **

Oliver stood by silently as the A.R.G.U.S. techs removed the equipment from the room, having administered the antidote to the specialized tetrodotoxin that Oliver had dosed Sara with and wanting to be well away from the cell where she was laying in a yellow prison jumpsuit. There was nothing in the room that she could use as a weapon, but that didn’t really matter to trained assassins. Their very bodies were a weapon. It was now a matter of when Sara would wake up.

Within ten minutes of the techs leaving, Sara’s fingers and toes began to twitch, and slowly her eyelids lifted. She turned her head, and her eyes narrowed slightly as she saw him standing nearby. “ _You,_ ” she snarled weakly.

“I’m sorry, Sara,” Oliver said genuinely. “I overreacted; just the thought of Ra’s al Ghul turning his attention to Starling terrifies me, especially with the amount of crime and corruption infesting the city. He may even decide that what’s being planned by the one responsible for it is for the best and offer his aid to them. So, I did what I felt I had to do to stop you from reporting to him. It was only afterwards I realized that all I’ve done is by the city a few weeks. I’m sure eventually Ra’s would send someone else, and I would keep having to incapacitate them and lock them away somewhere that they couldn’t report to him. It’d be worse if he sent his daughter, because I doubt that he would take kindly to her being captured.”

“You might be surprised there, Oliver,” Sara said softly. “But why don’t we back up. What’s being planned? Who’s responsible for all of this?”

“The same person who put a bomb on the _Queen’s Gambit_ five years ago to kill my father when he moved to stop their plan in it’s tracks,” Oliver said quietly, and Sara, who had pulled herself up into a sitting, cross-legged position, froze and her blue eyes shot to Oliver in shock and horror.

“Y-You mean everything we’ve gone through, everything we’ve done…”

“It was caused by someone that has Ra’s’ complete trust,” Oliver said. “Malcolm Merlyn was his Horseman once upon a time. He must have performed some sort of vital service to earn his freedom, and then he returned to Starling.” Over the course of the next half hour, Oliver laid it all out for Sara. Tempest, the attempts to force the criminal and corrupt into cleaning up the city, Merlyn’s decision to embark on a new Undertaking, his father’s decision to stop Merlyn’s plan in his tracks. “Now here we are, five years later, and from my understanding we have only months before Merlyn enacts his plan and wipes the Glades from the map,” Oliver finished up. “You know what kind of man Ra’s is, Sara. You’ve served under him for the past three years. Tell me honestly: do you believe he would stop Merlyn’s plan?”

“I-I don’t know, Oliver,” Sara said quietly. “If everything you’ve said is true, if Merlyn has made the city a den of crime and corruption, than he broke the League’s tenets and his life is forfeit. But its possible that the League would actually wait until his plan came to fruition before dealing with him. Or they may even seize control of his plan themselves and do what you fear.”

Oliver nodded. It had been what he had feared she would say. “Sara, I’m trusting you to report back to Ra’s and let him know I intend to deal with the crime and corruption not only as a way to draw Merlyn out, but also once I’ve captured or killed him. I won’t let the city become consumed by the iniquity Merlyn’s let spread like a plague. Your things will be returned to you and I’ll have a private jet take you directly back to Nanda Parbat.”

“Ra’s won’t accept my word for it, Oliver,” Sara said quietly. “At the end of the day, I’m a woman, and he sees me in that light. I hate to say it, but the only one he’ll listen to is you or Merlyn. Come back with me. We can be there and back in two days.”

Oliver was silent as he considered Sara’s proposal. A part of him whispered that if Sara was still indoctrinated, this could be a trap to leave his city defenseless. But on the other, he knew that his training would put Ra’s into a speculative mindset. Perhaps speculative enough to keep the man from killing him on sight. “Alright,” Oliver said quietly. “We’ll leave tonight. I’ll make the arrangements.” Sara nodded and Oliver turned, rapping twice on the door. It was opened by Lyla Michaels. “Make sure Sara receives all of her belongings and meets me by midafternoon,” Oliver said quietly, and Lyla nodded. She had no idea what it was Oliver and Sara had discussed, but she knew she was wary of her ex-husband’s new boss. She had never seen someone who not only commanded Waller’s complete attention but who spoke to her as though he were her equal. Any kind of man who could do that was dangerous, perhaps one of the most dangerous men alive. That was the only kind that intrigued her boss enough for her to give them the time of day.

**_*DC*_ **

Oliver heard the timid knock on his front door and called, “It’s open.” Felicity Smoak entered the loft for the second time in this new timeline. “Felicity, thank you for coming. I’m afraid something’s come up and I’ll be out of town for a couple of days, at least. I’ll be bringing Dig up in a moment to introduce the two of you, and then he’ll take you to our A.R.G.U.S. operations center to let you familiarize yourself with the system or overhaul it if that’s what you prefer. But I’m pretty sure you’ll be fine with A.R.G.U.S.’s choice of equipment.”

“Where are you going?” Felicity asked nervously.

“Exactly where your tone suggests you’re already thinking of,” Oliver replied. “Sara claims Ra’s won’t take her word for it. Considering what we’ve seen of the man, and how he treated both Talia and Nyssa, I can’t say she’s wrong. I should be okay so long as I can let slip my training with Talia, even though that might just intrigue him all the more.”

“You didn’t just call me here to tell me that and introduce me to Dig,” Felicity said quietly. “What’s going on, Oliver?”

Oliver sighed. “I’ve removed the Triad from the equation completely. I’m worried about the fallout. I need you to get tabs on every branch of organized crime in Starling City and find out what’s going on, who’s taking over what, all of it. And I need you to find someone. Daniel Brickwell.”

“Why him?” Felicity asked.

“Because it’s time Rebecca Merlyn got justice,” Oliver said quietly. “Tommy deserves the peace of mind, at the very least.” He sent a quick text to Dig to come up. “And it’s a longshot, but maybe having his wife’s murderer behind bars will slate Merlyn’s bloodlust.” Felicity gave an indelicate snort at that. “Oh, and just a reminder: Dig doesn’t know about Merlyn or any of it. I’ve been keeping things vague while I build trust with him.”

“Got it,” Felicity said as a heavier knock sounded at the door, and Oliver called for Dig to come in. **_*2*_**

**_*DC*_ **

Nanda Parbat. The last time Oliver had been here in his memory, it had been a burnt-out husk. But this was Nanda Parbat at the height of its power, home to a legion of assassins who obeyed their master without question. Oliver knew the only thing that kept an arrow from piercing his heart right now was the presence of Sara at his side in her League gear. Oliver followed her through Nanda Parbat to the Great Hall, where Ra’s was in the midst of dealing with those who had failed to pass even the most minimal tests to become an acolyte of the League.

Oliver kept his face impassive as he watched the man bring down six men, his memory flashing back to the mountaintop duel and the way that Ra’s had broken him. Of all the enemies that Oliver had faced, Ra’s al Ghul was the only one who truly terrified him. Merlyn’s motivations had been understandable if monstrous; Slade’s had been ones of vengeance; Darhk was a madman who wanted to reshape the world in his own image; Talia, the true mastermind of his fifth year as Star City’s guardian archer, had been vengeance; Cayden James had been revenge, Diaz pure ambition; and Emiko had been vengeance.

But Ra’s… to Ra’s, destroying cities and corrupt societies was simply his duty. He gained no pleasure from it, derived no satisfaction beyond a job well done. A madman in his own right, but one whose goals and motives were never selfishly driven as others were. That was the most terrifying kind of foe there was for Oliver, because that was the kind of mentality he had always brought to the table.

Ra’s finished his workout and took note of Sara and Oliver standing in the doorway, waiting to be summoned. “Taer Al-Sahfer, you’ve returned, and with a guest,” Ra’s said, gesturing them forward. Sara and Oliver walked forward, and both knelt before the man, keeping their eyes averted. Sara had told him how he needed to act with deference towards Ra’s, and since this time Oliver was not intending to challenge the man, he knew his insolent routine from the previous timeline was not the best strategy. Besides, Talia _had_ trained him what to do if he were ever approached by a member of the League or ended up in Nanda Parbat. “Who have you brought before me?” Ra’s asked Sara.

“Oliver Queen, my Master,” Sara replied, continuing to keep her eyes averted from Ra’s. “After hearing what he had to say, I felt it best you hear it from him directly.”

“Very well,” Ra’s said. “You may rise, Taer al Sahfer, and rejoin the ranks.” Sara rose gracefully and rejoined the ranks, standing beside Nyssa, and watching the kneeling form of her old friend and one-time lover with concern. She had gotten over her anger at what he had done on the flight over. Ra’s circled around Oliver. “You pay heed to the lessons Taer al Sahfer must’ve taught you well, Oliver Queen.”

“It was not Sara who taught me how to act towards the Demon’s Head,” Oliver replied, keeping his tone respectful and his head bowed, eyes focused on the ground. For his city, he would remain humble and respectful before the Demon’s Head. Anything less, and he might as well sign the death warrant for the entire population of Starling, something he was unwilling to do.

“Then who was it that taught you our ways, boy?” Ra’s asked calmly, going over the potential list and wondering if the archer before him had been trained by his old friend, Damien Darhk. If so, he would have to kill the boy as a matter of principle.

“She never told me her full name, but she called herself Talia,” Oliver replied, knowing this would set the cat amongst the mice, so to speak. The name rippled around the room; Ra’s examined the boy before him more closely now. His errant daughter did not train just any who crossed her path, and considering she could not have had him for more than three years, the length of time Taer Al Sahfer had been with them, he doubted it was by accident that she released him into a city that happened to be in the custody of one of his former Horsemen. Nyssa had looked stunned at hearing her older sister’s name, while those assassins who had been tasked with keeping tabs on Ra’s’ errant daughter felt fear because somehow, they had missed Talia training this student and Ra’s al Ghul didn’t tolerate failure.

“Talia, you say?” Ra’s finally said quietly. “She gifted you with a ‘graduation present’ of sorts, did she not?”

“The uniform I wear as the Green Arrow and the bow I use in my quest to bring justice to my city,” Oliver confirmed for Ra’s.

“When and where did you meet this Talia?” Ra’s questioned.

“This past January,” Oliver replied. “She rescued me from where I was being held in Russia and taught me how to control the darkness inside of me, how to channel it into a force for justice. She told me I was destined for greater things than playing gangster in Russia and trained me to become a weapon. She set me on the path that I have started down.”

“Which brings us to what you have come to tell us,” Ra’s said. “Speak, Oliver Queen, student of Talia al Ghul, and let us hear what has been hidden from us.”

And so, Oliver spoke. He told them of Merlyn’s history since leaving the League, Tempest, the List, the Undertaking, the _Gambit_ , and what had happened in the five years that Merlyn had had to consolidate his power in Starling with no one to stand in his way. “I know from Talia what it is you would do,” Oliver began to conclude, “but as one warrior to another, I ask for clemency for my city. They are not responsible for the actions Merlyn has taken in his single-minded quest to avenge his wife’s death, the actions of a single man, upon thousands of innocents, innocents who suffer from poverty and despair as those he lifted up crush them under heel.”

Ra’s had listened to the boy’s explanation, expression impassive but his mood growing darker with each passing word. The reason his daughter had done as she had had become clear as the boy’s explanation continued. Talia had learned of Merlyn’s treachery and set her own student to do what had to be done, though it appeared that she had failed to impart certain lessons to this Oliver Queen. He seemed to be unwilling to take a life when justice demanded it. Or perhaps he had another reason for not doing so; the young often became entranced with codes of conduct, never understanding that justice was all that mattered. It was what had drawn Talia away, and what may yet pull Nyssa away from him.

Ra’s returned to his throne, looking down on the kneeling archer. Finally, he spoke. “This is the judgment of Ra’s al Ghul; listen carefully, boy, for it will be spoken but once. Malcolm Merlyn has betrayed the code of conduct he agreed to abide by; for this, he must be punished. Yet he has managed to protect himself by ingratiating himself in the public eye and seizing control of the criminal underworld away from it. You have asked for clemency for your city and the innocent caught in the trap that Merlyn has set for them. It is granted, on the condition that _you_ bring Merlyn to justice. You must break the hold he has on your city, as benefactor and malefactor, and ensure that he can no longer use his resources to pervert the course of justice. Do these things, and the clemency you seek shall be granted for a season.” **_*3*_**

“I thank you, for your generosity,” Oliver said softly. “What is to become of Sara Lance, the one that you call Taer Al Sahfer?”

“She has served her purpose,” Ra’s replied. “If she wishes it, she may take up her former life and name.”

“I do wish to do so, Master,” Sara said softly, and Ra’s motioned for her to join the still kneeling Oliver. She did so.

“Go with my blessing but be aware that the eye of Nanda Parbat is now watching Starling City closely,” Ra’s said. “You may rise, Oliver Queen, and return to your fight.”

Oliver and Sara departed, both knowing they were lucky to be given this chance and neither wanting to waste it.

**_*DC*_ **

Once back in Starling City, Oliver brought Sara back to the loft, where she changed into her only set of civilian clothes. “You’re welcome to stay here as long as you need to, Sara,” Oliver said quietly. “What will you do about Quentin and Laurel?”

“I don’t know, Oliver,” Sara said softly. “There’ve been plenty of times over the years that I’ve dreamt of coming home, of reuniting with my family. But my family is broken, and I’m the reason for that. How can I even face them, not only after what I did with you and the _Gambit_ , but after what I’ve become? How could they not see the monster inside of me?”

“The thing about monsters is that if you try to pretend that they don’t exist, they’ll consume you from the inside,” Oliver said quietly. “I’m guessing right about now you’re thinking it would be better if you’re family remained thinking that you were dead, that it would be better if you left Starling behind and figured out who you are now.”

“Yeah,” Sara said quietly after a moment.

“That is selfish and cruel, Sara,” Oliver rebuked, and she recoiled in shock. “Do you think I don’t think the same thing every day. Sara, barely a month ago, I skinned a man _alive_ for practice, because he had information that I needed. There is _nothing_ that you could have done for the League that I can’t top. You can’t fight the darkness by running from it, Sara. You _have_ to confront it and accept that it’s a part of you. Otherwise, you’ll always be at war with yourself, always sabotage the relationships you have with those you love, and always be alone. That is not the way men or women were meant to live, Sara. You can only fight the darkness with hope. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that.” Oliver gestured out at the city. “Help me bring hope back to our city, Sara, and find hope for yourself again while you’re at it.”

Sara remained silent. Oliver sighed. “Well, I’m going to bed to get rid of this jetlag. If you’re still here when I wake up, I’ll know what choice you made.” Oliver retreated to his bedroom.

The next morning, when he came downstairs, the living room was empty except for a note resting on the couch. Oliver picked it up and unfolded it.

 _Ollie,_ it read, _I wish I could believe in what you said last night, I really do. But the girl you remember died on Lian Yu. She was gang-raped by the survivors of the_ Amazo _and left for dead. Something new was born when Nyssa found her, something dark, twisted, and ugly. Something that no one, not even my sister’s selfless heart or my father’s undying love could truly accept. There is no hope for something as dark and twisted as me, no matter what you think is possible. Don’t try to find me. You won’t. – Sara_

Oliver sighed and let the note fall to the couch. “Damn it, Sara,” Oliver whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter.
> 
> In case anyone’s wondering, Sara will show up again eventually but not for a while.
> 
> Chapter Notes:
> 
> *1* So, I’m sort of going back to my initial plan with regards to Felicity. That doesn’t mean she’s not still in danger and such. Just that I’m not quite done with the character yet.
> 
> *2* I’ve been aiming for Oliver to handle Brickwell early for a while. Just needed to find the right time to set it in motion.
> 
> *3* As always, the clemency of Ra’s al Ghul, such as it is, is conditional. This means that Oliver will have a finite amount of time once Merlyn is dealt with to show a marked improvement in Starling.


	14. Challenge

Oliver Queen entered the A.R.G.U.S. operations center with John Diggle and Felicity Smoak at his side. Felicity gave a contented sigh at the familiarity of it all, earning an odd look from Diggle, the only one of the vaunted ‘Original Team Arrow’ who had _not_ traversed time. Felicity went to the computers and immediately began bringing up all the information on the organized crime in Starling City that she had gathered and transferring it to the large plasma for Oliver to examine. “Any unusual activity beyond the typical skirmishes as they fight over new territory and the businesses left by the Triad?” Oliver asked as he examined the map of Starling that Felicity had mocked up, color-coded to each faction.

“Nothing so far, so that’s good,” Felicity said, getting the hidden message; Oliver was asking if there was any sign of Helena Bertinelli beginning her one-woman crusade to dismantle her father’s organization to weaken it for one of his rivals. Ironically, she had never actually done that since the Bertinellis remained a power in Star City for years to come, only capitulating to Diaz after the right pressures were applied. But even then, they had made a comeback after Diaz had been taken down for good. “And I got some intel on Daniel Brickwell. He’s currently the head of the Orchid Bay Butchers gang, carved out his own little fiefdom and is keeping the families out of his territory. Last person who tried to muscle in got their, um, you know what cut off and mailed to the head of the crime family in question.”

“He’s certainly colorful,” Oliver said, tilting his head thoughtfully. “Continue to keep an eye on things for now. The Unidac auction is coming up and I doubt everyone who is going to be making a bid will be honest. Speaking of, I have somewhere to be tonight.”

“Oh?” Diggle asked from where he had been standing, observing the map Felicity had put together and letting his soldier’s mind fill in the details of what each group had at their disposal (information that Henry Fyff had gotten for them before his dismissal). “What is it and how is it connected to Unidac?”

“Only peripherally,” Oliver amended. “I’m going to be paying a visit to a fire inspector tonight. He accepted a bribe from James Holder to say that everything in Holder’s tenements in the Glades were up to code. The truth is that the buildings’ wiring was faulty, and the fire alarms were barely functional. Too many died in those fires to let him get off scot free. It’s time we found out whether Kate Spencer is interested in justice or politics.”

“Those poor people,” Felicity whispered, not having been around the last time to hear why Oliver was going after James Holder. She wondered if he might decide to let Deadshot just do what he was hired for in that particular case if the D.A. still let Holder walk. “What’s the fire inspector’s name?”

“Jason Queller,” Oliver replied, and Felicity set to work finding out everything she could about the man in question.

**_*DC*_ **

The Green Arrow moved silently through the shadowy office space in City Hall where the District Attorney’s offices were located. The A.D.A.’s had gone home for the night, leaving the D.A. herself working late. Jason Queller had given up the original arson report quickly enough, which Green Arrow had suspected would be the case. Men like Queller were weak-willed, weak-minded little cockroaches who fed off of the blood of the innocent. He had left Queller a little something to remember him by, just in case he ever got it into his head to accept another bribe.

Kate Spencer was bent over the file of her current case, the people vs James Holder, Green Arrow noted as he stopped in the doorway of the D.A.’s office. “ **Kate Spencer,** ” Green Arrow said quietly, entering the room and causing Kate to stand and back away from her desk. “ **District Attorney, loyal civil servant. But how loyal are you to the people who pay your salary?** ”

“What do you want?” Kate demanded to know; she had already hit the silent alarm that signaled the building security that she was under threat. All she had to do was stall.

“ **To give you a chance to prove yourself,** ” Green Arrow replied. “ **You’re currently pursuing a case against James Holder. But you’ve nothing to bring against him that can’t be dismissed as circumstantial.** ” Green Arrow placed the file he had been carrying on Kate’s desk and backed away. She slowly moved forward, opening it but not looking at it.

“What is this?” she asked.

“ **The original, unaltered arson report from Jason Queller,** ” Green Arrow replied. “ **Call Queller to the stand and he’ll deliver everything that you need.** ”

“And what if I don’t use this? If you compelled Queller in any way, it’s the fruit of the poisonous tree,” Spencer said.

“ **If you choose not to use all the tools at your disposal, you will reveal that you are more interested in the power of your position than using that power to bring justice to those who deserve it,** ” Green Arrow replied. “ **If that’s the case, I will do all that I must to expose you for the corrupt, traitorous little bitch that you are.** ” Green Arrow turned and fired an explosive arrow at the window, blowing it out. “ **Nice trick with the silent alarm, but you’ll need to do better than that to catch me.** ” Green Arrow dived out of the window just as the security agents entered the room with guns drawn.

“Good thing I wasn’t in any real danger,” Kate said caustically, eyes narrowed at the two men. “He could’ve killed me a half dozen times in the time it took you to get here.”

**_*DC*_ **

The next evening, Oliver sat in the middle of his couch and watched Susan Williams reporting from the courthouse for Channel 52. “The jury today came back with a verdict of not guilty as D.A. Kate Spencer closed her case against James Holder with no solid evidence against Mr. Holder in the matter of the fires that took the lives of over thirty people this past winter. Mr. Holder was clearly pleased with the verdict.” Oliver didn’t need to watch anymore and turned the television off in disgust. He knew damn well that some of her A.D.A.’s had accepted the evidence he provided on cases, so there was not a single reason for Kate Spencer to hold back using the evidence he had given her unless she was already beholden to someone to let Holder walk. **_*1*_**

Oliver dug out his cell phone and sent Felicity a message to begin digging into Kate Spencer. This takedown, though, wouldn’t be in the courts of law, but the court of public opinion. As he put the phone away, there was a knock on his front door. Opening it, he found Laurel on the other side. “You said you wanted to talk to me?” Laurel asked, feeling a little self-conscious after their last conversation.

“Yes, please, come in,” Oliver said quietly, knowing what he was going to tell her was going to hurt Laurel, but he refused to cover for Sara and her selfish excesses any longer. He stepped aside and Laurel entered the apartment. “I know after our last talk, I’m not your favorite person, but something happened that you deserve to know about.” Oliver sat on the couch, Laurel joining him after a moment. “There’s no easy way to say this. Sara was in town a few days ago.”

“Sara? She was here? Why didn’t you tell me?” Laurel asked, hurt.

“It all happened very fast,” Oliver said quietly. “She was sent by her now-former employer to find out information about what I revealed in my little debut message. I ended up going back to her employer with her to plead for clemency for Starling.”

“Clemency? What do you mean?” Laurel demanded to know.

“Do you remember history class back in school? Specifically things like Rome’s fall, the burning of London, tradeships being plagued by rats, that sort of thing?” Laurel nodded slowly. “It’s a lie, or at least not the whole truth. Hidden in the annals of history is an organization that has dedicated itself to keeping the balance between good and evil, an organization that, when a society grows decadent, returns to restore the balance. That is who Sara fell in with. If they came here to deal with the matter, I don’t know if there would even be a dog left to wag it’s tail at them.”

Laurel swallowed hard. She tried to picture her sister in that sort of organization and was having a hard time imagining it. “But you did get clemency for Starling?”

“For a season, which with this organization and the man who leads it could mean anything from a literal season of a few months to a few years while they focus on more dire matters,” Oliver said. “Afterwards, I brought Sara back here and let her stay the night. The next morning, she was gone, leaving behind this note.” Oliver pulled Sara’s note out of his jacket pocket and handed it to Laurel, who read it with tears trickling down her cheeks, staining them with runny mascara. “The important thing to take from this is that Sara is alive, and when she’s ready, she’ll come home.”

“Thank you, Ollie,” Laurel said softly. “Can I-Can I keep this?” Oliver nodded, and she slipped Sara’s letter into her purse. She wiped at her eyes with a handkerchief and then smiled tremulously at Oliver. “So, anything else I should know about? I heard a rumor that the Green Arrow was spotted swinging away from City Hall last night.”

“I was giving Kate Spencer a chance to prove she’s serving the people of Starling,” Oliver replied. “She’s made her choice; she’s chosen those in power over those she’s meant to serve. Now she’s going to pay for it where it counts. The D.A. serves at the pleasure of the mayor, and no mayor is going to want a D.A. who the public hates. It will bring his own ratings down.”

“You’re going to use the court of public opinion to bring her down?” Laurel asked with a quirked eyebrow. “That’s a new one.”

“Justice takes many forms,” Oliver replied with a smile, which faded as he remembered things were tense between them. “Laurel, I am sorry for breaking your heart the other night. I wish things were different.”

“If you think I’m going to give up on us, Oliver, you’re wrong,” Laurel said, giving him a look. “I know for a fact that you have to attend the Unidac auction with your family. I’m coming as your plus one.”

“Really?” Oliver said. “Laurel, I don’t want you to be a target, and when I make my move at Queen Consolidated, that is precisely what would happen.”

“Oliver, I’m involved with you either way,” Laurel replied. “You say you want to protect me. Well, hasn’t it occurred to you that the safest place for me is at your side instead of being pushed to the outskirts of your life, where I don’t have your supposed protection?” Oliver quirked an eyebrow at her. “Whether either of us like it or not, you are going to be in the news as both Oliver Queen and Green Arrow. Whichever enemies target me, corporate or criminal, are going to target me anyways because I’ll be the one prosecuting them. At least at your side, I’m more visible than I am now.”

“You’re the head of C.N.R.I. and one of the most stunning lawyers there,” Oliver returned. “You’re hardly a wallflower, Laurel.”

“Ollie, I want you to do something for me. I want you to ask yourself if pushing me away will really help or if you’re doing this because you’re afraid of what could happen between us. I know that’s why you pulled away, why you did what you did with Sara. I’m not going to push you into anything, Oliver. I lost you _and_ my sister once already because I wasn’t willing to take it slow. Just think about it. Please.” Laurel stood, and Oliver nodded slowly to show that he would. “Be careful out there,” Laurel said quietly. “You’re still the best hope this city has seen in over a decade.” She left the loft and a contemplative Oliver Queen behind.

**_*DC*_ **

Floyd Lawton, the assassin known to all criminal databases as Deadshot, lined up his sights on the target, James Holder. He paused in his endeavors as he sensed another presence join him on the roof. “Here I thought you targeted guys like this one,” he said quietly. He ducked as a green-tinted arrow flew over his head. He whirled to face the Green Arrow, only to hear a beeping sound at his feet. He looked down just as the flashbang arrow detonated. Lawton was blinded and his ears filled with a shrill ringing before he felt another arrow impact him in the chest, wrapping him up in cords. He barely heard the bowstring being drawn back again, barely heard the arrow that embedded itself in the concrete next to his head, but he definitely smelled the gas that filled his nostrils and sent him into a deep slumber.

Green Arrow tilted his head. “ **Sleeping gas arrow worked like a charm,** ” he reported in. “ **We’ll get a chance to try out the magnetic arrow once A.R.G.U.S. picks up the package.** ” Both he and Overwatch (as Felicity had quickly assumed her ‘old’ identity) had been careful not to let slip the identity or M.O. of the assassin they were targeting, not wanting Dig to go off half-cocked. With Lawton heading for A.R.G.U.S., they weren’t likely to have to worry about him again. Nor had they told Dig yet about what Green Arrow had planned for the second part of the night.

With time on his hands to think, Green Arrow’s mind turned to Laurel’s parting request earlier that evening. What she didn’t realize when she made that request was that Oliver had four years of memories to draw on regarding his attempts to push her away and keep her from being close to him. In the coming year, she had been kidnapped by Cyrus Vanch simply for being connected to the Hood. In his second year, the same had happened with Sebastian Blood kidnapping her and forcing a confrontation with the Arrow. Later that same year, Slade Wilson had kidnapped her with the intent of killing the woman Oliver loved. They had managed to stay that execution by tricking Slade into thinking Oliver had feelings for Felicity, but the moment Slade had realized it was a trick (when Felicity had stuck him with the cure), he had ordered his Mirakuru soldier to ‘kill her’. Seeing as the soldier had been holding onto Laurel, ready to snap her neck at a word from Slade, it was pretty obvious which ‘her’ Slade meant.

The next year had been where Oliver really pushed Laurel away. As a result, she had trained with Ted Grant and Nyssa al Ghul to become the Black Canary. Ted was a good man, but limited in fighting ability to boxing, and Oliver had defeated Nyssa every time they came into conflict. Laurel had asked Oliver to train her, but he had refused, knowing that if he trained her, they would grow close again, perhaps close enough that his enemies would use her against him. Then he had left the city in the hands of Laurel, Dig, and Thea before returning five months later to help with the fight against H.I.V.E. They had barely begun to repair their friendship, and perhaps move in the direction of something more, when Darhk had stolen her from Oliver and everyone else who’s life she had lit up. Green Arrow felt his throat tighten convulsively as he remembered her standing with the others as he dueled with Merlyn, standing by his side as Merlyn threatened him after Nyssa disbanded the League, being held with the rest of them by Darhk’s power when they went to save William… the way she had faced Darhk’s murderous intent without flinching. Something dropped onto the back of his hand, and Green Arrow reached up to realize he was crying. **_*2*_**

“ _Green Arrow, you okay?_ ” Overwatch asked.

“ **Fine,** ” he said gruffly. “ **Just… old memories.** ” He focused back on the matter at hand, ignoring Overwatch’s muttered comment.

The answer to Laurel’s question was that no, trying to push her away and keep his distance hadn’t done anything to keep her safe. In fact, she had been _safer_ when he kept her close. He had his answer; but could he follow through on it?

That would be a question he answered later; the whirring of helicopter blades was filling the air, and once that was done, James Holder was due a visit from the Emerald Archer.

**_*DC*_ **

Green Arrow entered Holder’s penthouse residence a half-hour later. He had dealt with Holder’s security easy enough; all of them were knocked out with sprained wrists or ankles, just enough to keep them out of his way. Now it was time to do what he came here to do. He found Holder still celebrating the verdict with a glass of champagne out on the pool deck. “ **James Holder,** ” he snarled as he shattered the glass with an arrow to get Holder’s attention. “ **You’ve failed this city.** ”

“W-What do you want? My security will-”

“ **Do nothing,** ” Green Arrow replied as he threw shattered radios down between them. “ **How many died in those fires? How _many_!?**”

“I heard what you did to Queller,” Holder said. “I also know how you work. You provide all the evidence needed. Only it didn’t work in this case, did it? You’ve shown your resolve. It doesn’t match ours.”

“ **Wrong,** ” Green Arrow replied and fired an arrow directly into Holder’s chest. It pierced his diaphragm and he stumbled backwards, gripping the shaft of the arrow and looking between it and the Green Arrow in shock. “ **When justice fails, I’ll always be there to restore the balance, Holder,** ” Green Arrow said softly. “ **There will be no happy ending for scum like you.** ” Green Arrow walked across the pool deck to the edge of the roof, turned to give Holder one last look, and then shot a grappling arrow to a higher building across the way. It was time to head back to the Bunker and face Diggle’s inevitable judgment.

**_*DC*_ **

As predicted, Diggle’s expression was one of judgment as Oliver returned to the Bunker. Felicity was shooting the man nervous looks; it had finally sunk in for her that this wasn’t _their_ Dig. This wasn’t the Dig who had been through hell with them. This was the Dig who hadn’t learned the world wasn’t just black and white. Oliver put his bow and quiver up before turning to face Diggle. “It’s not that I can’t see the judgment on your face, John,” Oliver said quietly. “It’s just that I don’t care why it’s there.”

“Oliver, this was not what I agreed to,” Diggle said.

“I told you that I operate in shades of gray,” Oliver replied. “What did you expect that to mean?”

“You’ve avoided killing all of this time, so I didn’t think that was part of it,” Diggle replied.

“Everyone else I’ve fought and taken down, we’ve made their criminal conduct too well-known for it to be swept under the rug,” Oliver replied. “I didn’t _need_ to get justice for their victims because the courts were doing their job for once. That wasn’t the case here. I gave Kate Spencer everything that she needed to put Holder away. Instead, she let him walk. Felicity, any luck on finding out why?”

“Oh, there was a ‘donation’ to a charity that Miss Spencer oversees,” Felicity said, complete with sarcastic finger quotes. “It took a bit of work to dig that up, but I got it.”

“Good,” Oliver said. “Send it as an anonymous tip to Susan Williams at Channel 52 along with anything else you’ve dug up regarding Spencer’s flexible view of justice.” Felicity nodded, not questioning Oliver’s choice of reporter. Turning a hatchet job reporter like Susan Williams onto deserving targets tickled Felicity’s funny bone. Oliver turned back to Dig. “John, I’m not forcing you to be here. If this is something that you can’t commit to, I won’t hold it against you. Just remember who else is involved in all of this.”

“Yeah, A.R.G.U.S.,” Diggle said. “I get it. Keep my mouth shut about you if I leave, or Waller will make me disappear and find a patsy.” Diggle turned and headed for the elevator. Oliver sighed but didn’t stop him. He had come by motorcycle this evening so he could get home easily enough.

“So, now that he’s gone, want to talk about what got you worked up?” Felicity asked softly. “It’s not like you to break down in the field.”

“I had a few minutes to think about something Laurel said earlier this evening,” Oliver replied. “She asked me if pushing her away would really protect her or if I was protecting myself.”

“And?” Felicity asked, trying to keep her voice even as possible. Despite spending twenty years mourning Oliver and looking forward to their eventual reunion, she was still competing with Laurel for his affections. It burned just a little.

“That’s an answer that only Laurel deserves to hear,” Oliver said quietly. He headed to a small room set aside for him to change out of his uniform and back into his civilian clothes. Tonight, those were a pair of jeans, a light sweater, and his favored brown leather jacket.

**_*DC*_ **

Oliver knocked on the door in front of him and waited for Laurel to come to the door. It wasn’t that late, and he knew from past experience that Laurel stayed up to close to one a.m. working on her case files; for all he knew she stayed up even later these days since she had to deal with the paperwork for C.N.R.I. as well as her own case files. Soft footsteps approached the door, and then the door swung open. Laurel’s lips quirked up into a soft smile. “I didn’t expect you so soon,” she said quietly. “You used to be a lot more stubborn about things, as I recall.”

“Yeah, well, I had some time to think tonight in between takedowns,” Oliver replied as he stepped into the apartment. Laurel closed the door behind him, and the two went to Laurel’s couch, where they sat down. “Before I say anything else, Laurel, I need to tell you that I confronted James Holder tonight. It wasn’t like my previous takedowns. He had his day in court and the evidence I provided the D.A. wasn’t used.”

“So, what did you do?” Laurel asked, feeling a lump form in her throat.

“I killed him,” Oliver said quietly. “It was quick, but it was the only way to get justice for the people he killed with his negligence. For the most part, I will do my best to make sure the people I take down face their day in court. But for those who get off despite being guilty, there’s another form of justice.”

“You realize what that will bring down on you?” Laurel asked softly.

“I can live with being hunted, Laurel,” Oliver replied just as softly. “Do you still want to hear my answer?”

“I do,” Laurel said quietly.

“The answer is no, I don’t think pushing you away will protect you,” Oliver revealed. “The truth is, it wasn’t about protecting you or protecting me. It was about protecting the city.”

“Protecting the city?” Laurel asked, brow furrowing in consternation. “I don’t understand, Ollie.”

“What’s going on now, with Tempest, the Undertaking, all of that? It started when a man lost the woman he loved to the crime in the Glades,” Oliver said quietly. “This man and I are mirror images of one another, more than either of us would like to admit. I give these criminals a second chance at redemption because _I’m_ hoping to redeem myself. But if I lost you…” Oliver cupped Laurel’s chin, meeting her green gaze with his own blue one. “I would become the very thing I’m fighting to stop right now. I wouldn’t only stop pursuing a confrontation with this man to bring him to justice, I would approach him with an offer of alliance. If I lost you, I’d be losing a piece of my soul along with you and that would leave a man who would want nothing more than to see this city burn.”

Laurel took Oliver’s hand in her own. “Ollie, you’re too good of a man to mean that,” she said quietly. “I may not know anything about what you’ve done in the past that you feel you need redemption for, but I see a good man every time I hear what you’ve done as Green Arrow. You wouldn’t join this man, this dark reflection of yourself, even if I died. But I do believe you might lose your willingness to offer them a chance at redemption. _That_ , Oliver, is what makes you more than a vigilante in my books. It’s what makes you a hero.”

“And what about Holder and those like him? Doesn’t that change how you look at me?” Oliver asked.

“No,” Laurel said softly. “You did what you could to make sure Holder faced justice through the proper channels. He wouldn’t have been able to be charged unless we saw another winter of casualties like last time. You probably saved dozens of lives, Oliver, by taking him down. It all depends on who acquires those buildings now that he’s gone.” Laurel tilted her head. “Do you think the mere threat of someone taking me from you would be conceivable for Green Arrow to join this man you talk about?”

“What are you thinking?” Oliver asked.

“He can’t be doing this alone, whoever he is,” Laurel said quietly. “It would take more than one person to slowly poison the city like it has been. Would taking this man, and this man alone, down really stop what’s happening? Especially if those people Sara worked for are watching?” Oliver thought for a moment, then shook his head. “What if you pretended to be on his side because you thought I was threatened by everything going on?”

“I can’t,” Oliver said with a shake of his head. “As much as I’d like to, I can’t. Places like C.N.R.I. and the Merlyn clinic will be targeted for closure by the cabal that surrounds this man. I can’t do anything about the Merlyn clinic, but I can and _will_ stop C.N.R.I. from being shut down. What you’re doing there is too important to risk for the sake of bringing down all of Tempest. I’ll find another way to find out who they are and bring them down.” **_*3*_**

Laurel deflated but nodded. She agreed that C.N.R.I. was too important to let it be closed down. She decided to bring the conversation back to the original topic. “So, does all this mean you’re done running away from me?”

“I never could win an argument with you,” Oliver said with a sigh. Laurel smiled and leaned in to kiss him. He joined his lips to hers, and the two leaned back on the couch, once more basking in one another’s company.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter.
> 
> Yeah, the Lauriver drama didn’t last too long. But that’s probably because I’m treating these two like adults instead of teenagers like the CW did.
> 
> Chapter Notes:
> 
> *1* Kate Spencer, who was the D.A. of Starling City for the first two seasons of “Arrow”, never struck me as someone beholden to the people she was supposed to be getting justice for. She seemed far more interested in the power it granted her and exchanging favors.
> 
> *2* Oliver is much freer with his emotions by the time he dies the first time in “Crisis on Infinite Earths”. As to what I wrote up regarding Laurel: I’m sure Olicity fans have concocted all sorts of reasons that the ‘her’ in ‘kill her’ is Felicity, but the fact is the Mirakuru soldier was holding onto LAUREL. I also saw things changing between Oliver and Laurel during the back half of Arrow Season 4 before she was killed, and I won’t hear a word to the contrary.
> 
> *3* I considered whether or not to have Oliver infiltrate Tempest in order to bring the rest of the cabal to justice. However, it just doesn’t work as things stand. Of course, depending on how things go at the Christmas confrontation, that option is always on the table moving forward.


	15. Perspectives

Oliver Queen’s night may have taken a turn for the better, but the same couldn’t be said for others in Starling City.

Detective Quentin Lance crouched beside the body of James Holder, a man who had just been cleared of all charges stemming from the fires in the tenements he owned the previous winter. Quentin hadn’t been the one to catch that case since it wasn’t really a Major Case issue, being relegated to Arson, but he had heard enough from the boys in that division to know that Holder was a Grade A sociopath who only cared for his profit margin. That Holder had been killed only hours after being cleared was only mildly surprising. It was the obvious identity of the killer that had Quentin’s mind working. “Two weeks this guy’s been taking down everyone from rapists to Adam Hunt, but now he puts an arrow in someone with lethal intent? What’s the motive?”

“Holder had been cleared of all charges, Quentin, and we both know double jeopardy applied,” Lucas Hilton, his partner of over a decade, replied. “Green Arrow hasn’t hidden that he’s dedicated to bringing criminals to justice. So far, we’ve found all the evidence necessary to convict laid out for us, even those gang-bangers who went after the waitress. But Holder’s different. Arson thought that Holder paid off the fire inspector, and the same inspector turned up in the hospital last night with an arrow through his hand, the same night that Green Arrow was spotted swinging away from City Hall and a security alert had gone through the building, triggered by the D.A.”

“Meaning he got ahold of the evidence and turned it over to the D.A., who didn’t use it because she’s more interested in playing favors than doing her job,” Quentin grumbled, having had more than a few of his cases thrown out because of the D.A.’s playing games with the rich and powerful. “So, he decided to take matters into his own hands. I get it, but that doesn’t change the fact this is murder.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Hilton agreed, “but this isn’t just about justice. Already the streets are talking about the Green Arrow like he’s some kind of hero, here to right the wrongs of the city. It doesn’t help that he’s done more to clean up the city in the past two weeks than the S.C.P.D. has in almost twenty years. Hell, he took down the entire Triad in practically one night.”

“So, we give him carte blanche to do this?” Quentin demanded to know, gesturing to the body in front of them. “The law is the law.”

“Too bad you’re the only Lance who thinks that these days,” Hilton said quietly, and Quentin felt his stomach clench as he was reminded of the current rift between him and his daughter. But Laurel couldn’t support the Green Arrow now that he had _killed_ someone, could she? He refused to believe that she could, that her experiences had jaded her so completely that she would accept such an outcome. Not his daughter; not Laurel.

“Uniforms taking statements from the security team?” Quentin asked gruffly in order to change the subject.

“Yeah,” Hilton said quietly. “Which is an even bigger mystery. Why didn’t he cripple these guys to get to Holder?”

“A question we’ll ask him when we’ve got him in an interrogation room,” Quentin replied, walking towards the sliding door leading into the penthouse. He wanted to hear what the security team had to say himself.

**_*DC*_ **

Warren Patel was not a man who took deception well. He had paid a generous sum to the assassin known as Deadshot, yet he had yet to receive confirmation that the first target had been dealt with. The worst part of all of this was that he couldn’t afford another assassin; he simply couldn’t compete with the likes of Queen Consolidated and Merlyn Global, which was why he had hired an assassin to take out the competition beyond those whose positions were more limited than his own.

The door to his hotel suite was broken down, splintering along the carved edges, and men in S.W.A.T. gear moved in, circling around him and forcing him to the ground. This could mean only one thing; his assassin had failed. A moment later, an African American woman with her hair in a bun and wearing shiny red high heels entered the room and stood in front of him, looking down her nose at him. “Hello, Mr. Patel,” the woman said coolly. “My name is Amanda Waller. You’ll be accompanying these gentlemen and I back to our field office, where you will answer all our questions about your involvement with the assassin known as Deadshot, including who suggested him to you and if they have any ties to the organization that calls itself H.I.V.E.”

Patel was hauled to his feet by the men and dragged behind the woman as she left his hotel suite. The men dragged him towards the roof access, and Patel knew in that instant that this must be a black operation. He was going somewhere that no one would hear from him again until he turned up, half-starved and raving about things no one would believe him about. All because he tried to give himself an edge regarding the Unidac auction in a few days. **_*1*_**

**_*DC*_ **

Felicity Smoak was not moping. She did not mope. She sometimes got a little sad, maybe just the teensiest bit depressed, but she did not mope. Or at least that’s what the tech genius of Original Team Arrow told herself as she sat in her apartment, missing even the townhouse she had started renting after she became Oliver’s E.A. and received a pay bump with it (Oliver’s way of apologizing for her being relegated to _secretary_ , no doubt). But nope, she was stuck in the past when she rented a one-bedroom apartment in an unsecured building and she didn’t even have the comfort of her relationship with Oliver to salve the insult to injury.

She had gone from being the C.E.O. of Smoak Technologies, the undisputed queen of all things technology on the international level, as well as a hero in her own right as Overwatch to being a lowly I.T. worker at Queen Consolidated and the quirky tech working for Oliver, who didn’t have time for her anymore because his obsession with gorgeous Laurel had returned full force now that he was in a time where she was alive and kicking. Despite the fact she had mourned Laurel when she died, she had also been relieved, especially since she and Oliver weren’t together anymore. She hadn’t been able to resist the urge to look in on the team despite her decision to leave it back then, and she had seen how Oliver and Laurel were getting closer just in their daily sparring sessions. Laurel had visited Oliver everyday that he was down there, and it was easy for a woman, at least, to see that she had been circling Oliver for more than just sparring.

Felicity sighed as she remembered something she had uncovered in later years, which she had promptly hid and decided to pretend that she had never learned. Everyone, including Oliver, had believed that Laurel died of an embolism brought on by complications from the surgery. If they had been half as smart as she was, they would’ve questioned that verdict, but they were too caught up in their grief and she had no reason to share her findings with them. She had initially discovered that someone had hacked the equipment at the hospital and stopped the I.V. drip just long enough for an air pocket to form, an air pocket that was then introduced to Laurel’s bloodstream. That had ultimately caused her death.

Felicity had come to realize in later years that the hacking signature belonged to Cayden James; seeing as she was the one who arranged his release from A.R.G.U.S., she wasn’t about to inform Oliver that she had freed the man who had killed Laurel, much less reveal Darhk had only been the catalyst. But it wasn’t until _after_ Oliver’s death in the Crisis that she had discovered that James was contracted to do this by Emiko Adachi, Oliver’s half-sister who he had thought redeemed herself in her final minutes. Felicity had visited Laurel’s grave and found that she couldn’t summon any feelings of guilt or sorrow at her passing anymore, despite the fact they had been friends. At the end of the day, the older woman had always had Oliver’s heart, and because of that, Felicity’s husband had never truly been hers until after the woman was dead. She didn’t know if she could deal with that for another four years, or however long it took before Laurel was killed again by one of Oliver’s enemies, and that was _if_ she was willing to stick around and be a damn consolation prize.

Yes, Felicity Smoak did not mope. But she did ponder dark, forbidden thoughts that she would never have entertained before she embraced her own darkness with the help of Earth-2’s Laurel Lance, who she had admittedly gotten along with even better than she had the original. Maybe it was because Earth-2’s Laurel was decidedly not smitten with Oliver and he was equally disinterested in the doppelganger of his dead girlfriend. But did she dare do something that, if Oliver discovered it, would see herself end up on the receiving end of one of his arrows? But if she succeeded, then she would _finally_ have her husband back after twenty years of mourning him. That was worth any sacrifice.

Even if that sacrifice was the oh so precious Laurel Lance. **_*2*_**

**_*DC*_ **

Laurel Lance shifted slightly, her green eyes opening as she realized she wasn’t laying in her bed. The warmth of the sun on the back of her head and the awkward position of her body told her that she had fallen asleep on her couch, her legs tucked under her. Her lips quirked up into a soft smile as she saw Oliver opposite her, still sleeping. When he was awake, he was always so intense, so serious, that it was hard to see the boy that she had fallen in love with in him sometimes. But here and now, with Oliver asleep beside her, his features relaxed and his blue eyes closed, she could see the shadow of that boy on his rugged features.

But the man that he had grown into thanks to his hardships was someone she was coming to love even more. His desire to bring justice back to the city, to help the people who were suffering because of the actions of the powerful and corrupt, his desire to help her in her own fight against those same forces… it made her certain that what she had always suspected was true: that deep inside the playboy that she had known beat the heart of a good man who felt deeply for their city. Everything she had seen and heard from him had told her that that was who he was now, and whatever happened to him couldn’t have forced him into being something that he wasn’t, only revealed the truth of who he was deep down.

Oliver’s eyes slowly blinked open, and Laurel found the brief flash of confusion in his eyes adorable. As recognition set in, Oliver pushed himself into a more suitable sitting position. “Sorry,” he said quietly. “Didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“We both fell asleep, Ollie,” Laurel replied. “But we had a lot to talk about.” Last night had been taken up with a long, hard discussion that needed to happen if their relationship was to work moving forward: namely, the fact that they hadn’t _talked_ to each other five years ago when they should have. Oliver had told her about the pregnancy scare he had with Samantha Clayton, who had been a sister at the same sorority that Laurel had joined when she went to college. Laurel, in turn, had told Oliver that she and Tommy had been sleeping together off and on for the past two and a half years.

“Yeah, I guess we did,” Oliver said quietly. He looked out the window behind her. “Damn. I’m late for work.”

“So am I,” Laurel said. The two of them pushed off of the couch and stood. They came together for a quick kiss. “Will I be seeing you tonight?”

“Depends on what comes up,” Oliver replied. “I took care of an assassin before I went after Holder. He was actually targeting Holder, but that assassin wasn’t doing it because he cared about the people of this city. He was doing it for money.” The disgust in Oliver’s voice regarding that line of work was clear, and Laurel wondered where he had developed it; not that she minded it, since it helped to show that while he operated in a morally gray area, Oliver still had morals, far more than most vigilantes had. Again, that was what made her think of him as more of a hero.

“Well, good luck at Queen Consolidated,” Laurel said.

“Have a good day at C.N.R.I.,” Oliver returned before picking up his jacket from where he had placed it last night before heading the front door. He opened it, only to pause as he found a familiar, perpetually sour-faced detective on the other side, one hand raised to knock. “Detective,” Oliver greeted neutrally as he ducked around the surprised Quentin Lance, shrugging on his coat and ducking into the stairwell before Quentin could form a sentence.

Quentin stood there for a moment, dumbfounded. He knew it was impossible that he had seen who he had just seen, because there’s no way that his smart, intelligent daughter would take that billionaire scumbag back after everything he had put them through. Shaking himself, Quentin entered Laurel’s apartment, finding his daughter in her kitchen setting a pot of coffee to boil. “Ollie, hanging around for a cup of coffee is just going to make you more late than you already are,” Laurel said, turning around with a smile, a smile that faded as she saw her father standing there. “Dad, I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Well, seems you were kinda distracted,” Quentin said. “Good time with Queen?”

“Dad,” Laurel groaned, turning back to face the coffee pot.

“Don’t ‘Dad’ me, Laurel,” Quentin snapped. “We still don’t know if Sara is alive or not, and that doesn’t change the fact that Queen took her on that boat. How you can take him back in any capacity after what he’s done to us…”

“By realizing that that island chipped away at everything that he wasn’t, leaving only the person he really is, the man I fell in love with,” Laurel replied, turning to face her father while retrieving her purse from where she’d tossed it. “And it’s not a question of if Sara is alive, Daddy.” She pulled out Sara’s note and handed it to Quentin, who took it and opened it. At first, there was nothing but suspicion on his face, but as he read the note, clearly written in his youngest’s hand, his resolve faltered. As he read of her experiences and her decision to leave Starling because she couldn’t face them, he broke down weeping. Laurel knelt beside her father and pulled him into a hug. He held tight to her, letting out five years of pent-up grief and despair as he finally learned his youngest daughter was still alive, but a broken shell of the girl that she used to be.

Laurel waited for her father’s sobs to subside before she said, “Sara went to Ollie when she was in Starling. He tried to get her to meet us. But she left in the middle of the night with just that note left behind. Sara isn’t ready to come home, Daddy, but she isn’t dead, and I somehow doubt she’s going to go along with you blaming Oliver for everything that’s happened. And to answer your unasked question, yes, we’re going to see if we can make things work this time. For one, we’re being open and honest with each other about our expectations. Something we never did before.” Laurel stood, her father following a moment later. “But I know Oliver wasn’t why you came here this morning.”

“I went looking for you at C.N.R.I., and when you weren’t there, I got worried that something had happened to you again,” Quentin said quietly.

“And why were you looking for me?” Laurel asked, though she had a sneaking suspicion about why already.

“Green Arrow,” Quentin replied. “He killed James Holder last night. He’s not just a vigilante anymore, he’s a murderer. I’m begging you, as your father and as a detective, don’t get anymore involved with him than you already have. Don’t let him bring you further into his world. I don’t want to arrest my own daughter.”

Laurel was silent, then returned to the kitchen and poured herself a cup of coffee. “Your concern is noted,” she said tersely. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to get ready for work.”

Quentin sighed and left his daughter’s apartment. Why did they both have to be so stubborn?

**_*DC*_ **

Oliver entered the office in a new suit, Diggle trailing behind him. Walter was waiting for him. “It doesn’t project an image of confidence for one of our top executives to be late, Oliver,” Walter said sharply.

“I know, I’m sorry, I had a late night talking with an old friend and fell asleep on their couch,” Oliver replied. “It won’t happen again.” Walter studied him for a moment, then nodded. “What’s on the agenda for today?”

“We’ll be having a luncheon with all the department heads catered by Table Salt, after which you will be meeting with each of the men and women who currently work in our Applied Sciences division, something I know you’ve been avoiding,” Walter said, giving his stepson a curious look.

Oliver grimaced but chose not to say anything. Dr. Doug Miller was the man he had taken the position of Head of Applied Sciences from and if he was anything like Henry Fyff and other geniuses Oliver knew, the man who was now only another employee in the division would be trying to humiliate Oliver while pretending he was educating him. It didn’t help that Miller was on the List, although now that Oliver thought about it, he didn’t remember confronting Miller. Then again, there were many on the List he never got the chance to confront before he abandoned that mission in the face of Tommy’s death and his promise to his best friend’s memory.

“Sounds good,” Oliver finally said, while promising himself to look into Doug Miller and find out why the man had been on the List in the first place. He trusted Felicity, but this was personal to him. This was an employee at his family’s company, _his_ company, and that meant whatever Miller had done to earn membership on the List had to be something that might compromise the integrity of Queen Consolidated if it got out. As if that weren’t enough, a memory rose, unbidden, in his mind’s eye of when he asked Felicity to look into the Restons and what had driven them to a life of crime.

Maybe it was time to add a personal touch to some of these cases that hit close to home. Perhaps tonight would be spent focusing on learning all that he could about Miller and what had driven the Restons to their life of crime.

**_*DC*_ **

Doug Miller was a brilliant scientist, but it swiftly became obvious once Oliver delved into his background that evening from the comfort of his own home that Miller was also a first-degree psychopath. Before he had come to have a respectable position at Queen Consolidated, Miller had had a lab in the Glades where he used desperate residents of the Glades in tests of his technologies. His primary focus was in the area of memory retrieval, but that could just as easily move to memory removal or manipulation, the latter of which he seemed to excel at. In fact, his victims were never willing to testify against him, believing the man had actually helped them despite the pain and suffering that he had inflicted on them.

Oliver had dug deeper and discovered a few off-the-books experiments Miller was running out of Queen Consolidated properties around the city. Oliver vowed to put a stop to this; it was sick and wrong of anyone to take advantage of those who were vulnerable to offered financial incentives. Each of the three off-the-books experiments was aimed at one of the three fields surrounding memories. Oliver could see the value of research for memory retrieval or suppression (the latter could be a useful aid to sufferers of P.T.S.D.), but he saw nothing that memory manipulation could help with.

As for the Restons and their situation, Oliver had focused on the specifics surrounding the closure of the steel factory and the decision to not give the workers their rightful severance packages. Those packages could not only have kept those families afloat while the breadwinners searched for gainful employment, they would have included references that could see them find work anywhere in the country with glowing recommendations from Queen Consolidated. Withholding those severance packages and the bright future they promised was criminally negligent at best in Oliver’s books. What he hadn’t expected was where that path would lead. He had expected it to lead to the Legal Department, but it didn’t; instead it led to the Finance Department and specifically to the office of the then Chief Financial Officer.

_Walter Steele. ***3***_

**_*DC*_ **

Oliver found himself driving to the Queen Mansion and circling around to the back of the mansion, where his father’s memorial headstone still stood. He crouched in front of it. “It feels like a lifetime ago that you asked me to right your wrongs,” Oliver said quietly. “I suppose, in a way, it was. But the more I dig, the more I realize just how many wrongs there were. You had to know what Walter’s suggestion would do to all those people, all those _families_. You can’t hide behind the threat of Merlyn this time. I _know_ the factory closing was before he unveiled his new plans. This was you, you and Walter.”

Oliver fell silent. After a few moments of silence, Oliver spoke again. “I thought I was being a good son. But now I understand… I’m your last pitiful hope for redemption. Well, I’m sorry, Robert. I’m not your redemption. I’ll fight for this city, for our family’s future, but not because of some promise you coerced out of me. I’ll do it, because it’s the right thing to do, and if I have to break our family to do it, I will. The only honor you’ll ever receive is your name on the Applied Sciences center.” Oliver stood and left his father’s headstone behind, feeling as though a burden were lifted from his shoulders, and in some ways it had been. Even during his seventh year as a vigilante/hero, it had had something to do with his father. He was finally leaving that behind.

**_*DC*_ **

Oliver returned to his apartment with a pensive expression on his face. He shut the door softly behind him, moving to the counter and pouring himself a glass of wine. He tilted his head; there was something off in the apartment, something that didn’t belong. Oliver moved to set the wine glass down… then whirled and threw it at the black-clad attacker, who smashed it with a swing of their bat. At first surprised by this odd choice of weapon (he had gotten so used to his enemies using esoteric weapons like himself, up to and including swords, bows, staffs, and sais), Oliver still had the semblance to duck when his mysterious guest attacked. Oliver performed what could only be described as a twirl as he spun away from the second attack and ended up behind his attacker. There, he delivered a crushing kick to the back of the attacker’s right knee, driving him to the ground. A solid right hook to the back of the man’s head left him visibly woozy; a second strike of the same type knocked him out completely.

Oliver turned the attacker over and pulled up the ski mask that the attacker had been wearing and his expression darkened with a scowl. He recognized the man all too well; this man had been introduced to him as a ‘mechanic’ by Alexi Leonov in the last timeline and told that if he was lying about being Bratva that the mechanic would be sent to kill him and his family. Oliver sighed and dug out his cell phone. For once, time differences would be working in his favor. He selected Anatoli’s name on his list of contacts and waited. “Ah, Oliver Queen, my favorite American!” Anatoli greeted. “What has you calling so late in Starling City?”

“I’ve just been attacked in my home by a member of the Bratva,” Oliver replied, and Anatoli bit out an oath; he apparently had thought this foolishness was over. Everyone knew where Oliver stood in the organization. “Anatoli, I don’t want to make a move without your blessing, but this is the second time the Bratva have targeted me or a member of my family since I’ve returned to Starling. Leonov clearly has a desire to hurt me and he’ll keep throwing his men at this endeavor unless something is done.”

“Agreed,” Anatoli replied. “I will be on next plane to Starling City. We will deal with this matter together.”

“If you need accommodation while you’re in Starling, my loft is open to you,” Oliver replied.

“Thank you,” Anatoli said. “I will text you details of our itinerary.” Anatoli hung up then and Oliver looked down at the man on his floor. He supposed the only option he had at the moment was to call the police and play dumb as to why Russian muscle would want to attack him. He just hoped Quentin wasn’t the officer assigned to the case. **_*4*_**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter.
> 
> Chapter Notes:
> 
> *1* I hope everyone enjoyed the wrap-up on the Warren Patel issue. I always got the impression he was desperate to get Unidac with his hiring Deadshot, so I figure he doesn’t have the funds to hire another assassin.
> 
> *2* The bullshit excuse for why Laurel died has never really sat well with me when Felicity survived much more complicated surgeries. So my head canon is someone else was behind her death, whether it was Emiko or Talia is up for debate. As for Felicity’s falling down the rabbit hole, what did you expect? The woman’s fixated on a relationship that will never happen as long as Laurel Lance lives and breathes. She was always going to turn psycho. Just how far, well, that’s something to explore, now isn’t it?
> 
> *3* The List seems to be split into two categories: those who profited from the suffering of others through swindling and the like, and those who profited from their suffering in a more direct fashion, like Leo Mueller and Justin Claybourne did. As for the bit about the steel factory and Walter being the one who found a loophole to deny the workers their severance packages, I wanted to do something different since people tend to paint him as a saint who Moira manipulated into marrying her.
> 
> *4* I thought a conflict within the Bratva might be a good replacement for the contents of Episode 3. I hope everyone enjoys what I have planned.


	16. Brotherhood

Oliver Queen finished giving his statement to Detective Marcus Wright, who had been assigned to his case. “And you’re certain you’ve never seen this man before?” Wright asked, double-checking.

“Absolutely,” Oliver lied without a trace of doubt or indecision in his features. “I would remember someone with that kind of face. It just screams ‘hired thug’.” Wright smirked and chuckled at the Queen scion’s snarky comment. Unlike Quentin Lance and Lucas Hilton, Wright had no history with the Queen scion and as a result, wasn’t judging him unduly. “So, who is he?”

“Dmitri Romanov, Russian muscle,” Wright said, looking at his notes. “Until now, all we’ve had are suspicions that he was involved in break-ins that resulted in beatings. Do you have any idea why he would be after you?”

“I can only think its connected to what happened when Tommy and I were kidnapped a few weeks ago,” Oliver replied. “As I told Walter afterward, it had to be connected to something Queen Consolidated was involved in five years ago based on the questions the kidnappers were asking.”

“We’ll look into it,” Wright promised, and wrapped up the interview. The crime scene technicians had already finished, and the uniforms had already dragged Romanova away, so it had just been him and Oliver. The door closed behind the detective and Oliver sighed quietly in relief. Anytime his, well, criminal life intersected with his everyday life and brought police attention to it, it was always a balancing act to make sure that the police saw precisely what he wanted them to see: a billionaire’s son looking to make something of himself and wondering if he made the right choice by joining the family business.

Oliver had nearly gone into the mansion tonight to confront Walter about what he had helped Robert do. Oliver knew, intellectually, that all Walter had done was provide the _option_ to use a loophole and deny the workers their severance packages. It was Oliver’s father, Robert Queen, who had ultimately made that despicable choice. But in his heart of hearts, Oliver wasn’t sure he could completely absolve Walter of his part in this. Robert wouldn’t have even known about the option without Walter presenting it to him. So, the question became whether he chose to confront Walter and force the issue, and if he did, should he do it as Oliver, or as the Green Arrow?

That, he decided, was a decision to be reached once the current issue with the Bratva had been dealt with.

**_*DC*_ **

Margo Harrington’s light blue eyes were clouded in part by the drugs she had taken before coming to the club tonight, her brown hair damp with perspiration from all of the dancing she had been doing. She was currently sipping on a margarita and wondering why Thea Queen, her best friend and main wing-woman for this kind of thing, had begged off coming with her tonight. It was unlike Thea to not want to spend some time shaking her ass at all the hot college guys that frequented Club Poison. Oh, well, her loss; Margo just hoped the Queen heiress hadn’t gotten it into her head that with her brother back it was time to go back to being Miss Prim and Proper. If she did, well, Margo had some rather incriminating photos on her cell phone that would change the Queen heiress’ mind in a heartbeat. She wouldn’t dare want Mommy Dearest or Dearly Damaged Big Brother to find out the truth of what she’d been up to all these years.

“Good evening, Miss,” a rich, accented voice said as a man who couldn’t have been much older than twenty-three or twenty-four sidled up to the bar she was resting at. “I must say, you look simply ravishing.”

Margo eyed the man in front of her speculatively. He wasn’t like most of the people in this place; his clothing was all clearly tailored to fit him and accentuate everything about him that made him one fine male specimen. His dark hair was cut short, his gray eyes sharp and piercing. She didn’t flinch as he cupped her chin. “Hmm, yes, a lady with refined tastes is what you are. Perhaps we can be of some assistance to one another. You see, I don’t get involved with just any girl, and it is clear you are not a woman who will simply fling herself at anything male. I have a place here in town that we can get to know each other in, if you’d like.”

“Sounds perfect,” Margo said, her more cynical side that was shouting this was a bad idea having long since been muted by her consumption of drugs and alcohol. Now that she thought about it, she didn’t remember ordering that margarita. Oh, well, it wouldn’t be the first time she had ordered a drink and not remembered it. “What are you waiting for? Let’s go.” She took the man’s arm and allowed him to lead her out of the club and towards a very _nice_ car parked down a side street, away from prying eyes.

As a result, when Margo stumbled and her new friend had to pick her up bridal style to continue the journey, no one was around to notice the way his eyes flicked over her exposed calves and thighs, currently shaped by her dark nylons to accentuate her newly-developed curves, or the way he pinched the flesh of her left thigh between his thumb and forefinger and mused, “Oh, yes… that is _very_ nice…” **_*1*_**

**_*DC*_ **

Oliver was up before the sunrise, showering and dressing in casual clothes (a dark t-shirt, jeans, and his favored leather jacket). Luckily, it was the weekend and he wouldn’t have to worry about going into the office. In addition to what he was going to be dealing with as far as the Bratva was concerned, he didn’t know if he could face Walter and _not_ confront the man over what he had helped Robert do. Oliver had tracked down every single family that had been effected by what Robert had done with the steel factory, and aside from the Restons who had left town and become the Royal Flush Gang (not that the police or anyone but Oliver knew that), almost all of them were still in the Glades. Those that weren’t were in the cemetery, because they had been victims of James Holder’s ‘perfectly safe’ tenements.

Oliver had set a worm to track down each of those still alive and what their jobs now were. He hoped to have that information by the end of the day. That would help him further decide how he would approach Walter, whether as Green Arrow or as Oliver Queen, the troubled heir apparent of the Queen business empire. Now all he could do was wait for Anatoli to arrive; according to the itinerary he had sent Oliver by email last night, Anatoli and his delegation from Russia would be arriving in Starling this morning and coming directly to Oliver’s loft, from which they would be heading for the garage the Bratva operated out of at this point in time.

In the meantime, all Oliver could do was wait for Anatoli and his delegation to arrive. Then the real work would begin.

**_*DC*_ **

Susan Williams was going over the research goldmine that she had been handed from an anonymous source. It was a clear-cut case of corruption that pointed to the District Attorney being bought and paid for by the wealthy, especially those who had earned their fortunes with ruthlessness bordering on, or entering into, criminality. While the sender was anonymous, Susan was sharp enough to read between the lines. This goldmine being sent to her just after the District Attorney failed to get a conviction against a man who had recently donated a generous sum to a charity that she oversaw could only have come from one source who would have a motive: the Green Arrow.

Starling City’s mysterious vigilante had proven to be a constant source of debate in Starling City. The wealthy and corrupt hated him; the poor and destitute loved him. His killing of James Holder had made him even more polarizing as the police were forced to issue a warrant for his arrest with a charge of murder. Green Arrow’s complete absence the previous night had been startling, and today’s segment would include a question put to the people of Starling City at every level that had been compiled the previous day, before they even knew that the Green Arrow would seem to disappear. The question being, did they want the Green Arrow to continue his one-man crusade, now knowing the lengths he was willing to go to?

**_*DC*_ **

Laurel Lance turned on the television as she curled up on her couch with her morning coffee, turning to Channel 52 news. Susan Williams had sent her a message last night that she might find today’s segment on pressing issues facing Starling residents interesting. Laurel waited silently as the usual morning segments ran, and then, finally, Susan appeared on the screen. “Good morning, Starling City,” Susan said, perfectly poised as always. “Today, we address a burning issue that has faced Starling City for nearly three weeks now, and which has just skyrocketed to the tip of everyone’s tongues: what do we think of the Green Arrow, and do we want him to continue his crusade, knowing how far he is willing to go? We go directly to the source, the people of Starling City, to bring you the general feel of the city’s sentiment regarding the Green Arrow.”

Shock flooded Laurel’s system even as the first two people appeared on the screen, a young woman in a waitress uniform from Big Belly Burger and a young man in a red hoodie. “The cops don’t care about the Glades,” the young woman said. “I’ve been sexually assaulted three times, no matter how many times I’ve cried out for help and begged for them to stop. No one came to my rescue, not until _him_. Roy here tried to help me the same night. As long as there are good men like the Green Arrow and Roy who watch out for those of us who live and work in the Glades, I have hope that this city can become a better place. And from what I know of those who lost their lives because of what he did, James Holder got what he deserved.”

The young man in the red hoodie, Roy, spoke next. “Like Alisha said, the cops don’t care about the Glades. Crime, despair, corruption… it’s practically choking us. Green Arrow’s the first sign of hope we’ve had in decades from what other folk say. I say let him do what he wants and get rid of the filth.”

A man in a mechanic’s uniform appeared next. “Green Arrow? Eh, I don’t really care about what’s happening in the city. I’m doing my best to get out of this BEEP cesspit.”

A woman with two kids hanging off of her arms. “I used to worry about walking the streets at night because of the rough attitudes of men in this city,” the woman said. “Now the Green Arrow’s shown he’s got no patience for rapists, I feel safe for the first time in years.”

Walter Steele appeared on the screen. “I believe the Green Arrow is doing what he feels is necessary,” Walter said, “but he has chosen to do so from behind a mask, and now he has murdered a man which the courts have decreed to be innocent of his crimes. Is this what justice looks like now? Where our courts can be mocked by this faux Robin Hood who thinks he’s doing good? No. That cannot be what justice looks like or else we might as well stop working and just let this vigilante run roughshod over us all.”

Malcolm Merlyn was the next from the billionaire contingent. “My late wife believed strongly in helping the people of the Glades,” Malcolm said, meeting the camera directly with his gaze. “She gave her life for that belief. I can’t help but think that, if Green Arrow had been around twenty years ago, my wife might still be alive, and I would not have spent these past eighteen years mourning her.”

More people popped up to speak their opinion on the Green Arrow, but Laurel didn’t hear them. In her mind’s eye, she was turning over Malcolm Merlyn’s statement over and over in her head.

 _What’s going on now, with Tempest, the Undertaking, all of that? It started when a man lost the woman he loved to the crime in the Glades._ Malcolm Merlyn had lost his wife to the crime in the Glades and spent the past eighteen years mourning her loss.

 _This man and I are mirror images of one another, more than either of us would like to admit._ Rebecca Merlyn had worked tirelessly to provide much-needed medical services to the people of the Glades, the way Laurel worked tirelessly to provide much-needed legal aid services to those very same people. Malcolm and Oliver were both wealthy, charismatic, and deeply in love with Rebecca and Laurel, worrying over their safety.

 _The person responsible for this is very powerful and controls Starling’s criminal underworld with an iron fist._ It would take someone with access to a vast fortune and allies with similar fortunes to keep the city’s criminals in line and force them to stay in the Glades instead of expanding outward.

 _But if I lost you… I would become the very thing I’m fighting to stop right now. I wouldn’t only stop pursuing a confrontation with this man to bring him to justice, I would approach him with an offer of alliance. If I lost you, I’d be losing a piece of my soul along with you and that would leave a man who would want nothing more than to see this city burn._ Oliver would feel completely comfortable approaching his godfather, the man who understood his loss better than anyone, with an offer of alliance to see those he saw as responsible for her death burn.

It all fit. Malcolm Merlyn was behind the Undertaking. Malcolm Merlyn was the one who had turned the Glades into a cesspit, though for what reason she was still unclear. Malcolm Merlyn was the one person Oliver would forge an alliance with in order to exact vengeance for her death.

Malcolm Merlyn was behind all of the pain and suffering of the past five years.

Laurel stood, placing her coffee on the table in front of her and snatching up her jacket and keys. Oliver had some explaining to do. **_*2*_**

**_*DC*_ **

Oliver opened his door, expecting to greet Anatoli, only to find a tight-lipped Laurel on the other side.

“Laurel?” he asked in surprise.

“We need to talk, Ollie,” Laurel said, breezing past him into the room. “Did you know Channel 52 went around town asking people from all walks of life what they thought of the Green Arrow?”

“No, I didn’t,” Oliver said honestly. “What was the general consensus?”

“I’ll have to rewatch the segment when it hits YouTube,” Laurel said, tilting her head. “See, one of the people who’s opinion was sought was Malcolm Merlyn.” Laurel stepped closer, looking up into his eyes with her green ones. “Tell me that I’m just making wild connections Ollie, because what Mr. Merlyn said… it makes me think he’s the one behind everything.”

Oliver took a deep breath and released it slowly. He had forgotten how quick and sharp Laurel could be when she set her mind to something; he should’ve known her mind was working on the problem of who could be behind the Undertaking this entire time. That Merlyn had given a soundbyte about the Green Arrow should’ve surprised Oliver, but then the man _had_ appeared supportive of the Hood in the previous timeline. Oliver met Laurel’s gaze and said, “You’re not making wild connections. Merlyn is the one I’m trying to draw into a confrontation. You have to keep quiet about this, Laurel. No one can know; not your father, not Tommy, not Thea, not my mother or Walter… Malcolm Merlyn is more than just a corrupt businessman. He’s a trained assassin, trained by the same people as Sara, and he will kill anyone who gets in his way. My father was his best friend, like Tommy’s mine, yet he didn’t hesitate to try and kill him.”

Laurel’s legs shook slightly with dread as she took in what Oliver was saying, the last line snagging her attention. “What do you mean, Oliver?”

“The _Gambit_ didn’t sink because of an accident at sea, Laurel,” Oliver replied. “It was sabotage. I haven’t uncovered everything about what happened, but I know that much. I had a similar experience to the _Gambit_ almost two years later and I recognized the similarities then.” He noted Laurel’s form trembling and guided her to the couch. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have unloaded all of that on you. I just figured since you know, its better if you know everything.”

“No, you’re right, I need to know that sort of thing,” Laurel said quietly. “If I had just assumed Merlyn was a corrupt businessman, I would have treated him like any other I’ve faced and told him straight out I knew what he did and that I was going to make him pay for it. I know that’s what I would’ve done because it took all of my focus to keep myself aimed at coming here and not diverting to the Merlyn Mansion.”

Oliver was on his feet in an instant. “Don’t ever do that, Laurel!” he all but shouted. “Merlyn wouldn’t even hesitate to crush your throat right there and then since he’s the only one who lives in the Mansion and he controls the city! You’d end up a cadaver in some out of the way Podunk town, and none of us would know what happened to you! Don’t ever risk your life by doing something like that; promise me, Laurel!”

“I promise,” Laurel whispered, shocked at how the mere mention of her confronting Merlyn had seen Oliver transform completely into someone else, someone dark and fierce that she didn’t recognize. What Laurel didn’t know was that she had seen the darker side of the Green Arrow, the side that recognized that sometimes the only way to get true justice was to walk up to the person responsible for all the suffering and misery and stab them in the heart, the side of him that had been the heir apparent to Ra’s al Ghul. “Ollie, I knew it was a bad idea and I didn’t do it. You don’t need to shout.”

“I’m sorry,” Oliver whispered as he sank back down to the seat. “The moment you said it, I felt like I was watching a glimpse of the future. Merlyn or someone working for him stabbing you or strangling you or any other number of things that they might do to get rid of the nosy lawyer poking into Merlyn’s business. You don’t have the training to deal with a man like Merlyn or those who work for him, Laurel. Leave him to me; he’ll get what’s coming to him. I promise.”

Laurel pulled him close and he wrapped his arms around her slender shoulders, doing to the same. The two of them held each other close, simply soaking in this time with one another, before there was another knock on the front door of the loft. Oliver reluctantly pulled away from Laurel and opened the door to find Anatoli and two other men from the Bratva in Russia on the other side. Despite the situation, Oliver smiled and greeted his friend. “Anatoli Knyasev,” he said, hugging the man.

“Oliver Queen, my brother,” Anatoli replied, returning the embrace. Oliver stepped aside and let them in. Laurel stood up at the sudden arrival of people she didn’t know. “Ah, and who is this?”

“Anatoli, this is Laurel Lance, Sara’s sister,” Oliver replied. “Laurel, this is Anatoli Knyasev. He was on the _Amazo_ with Sara.”

Laurel stepped up and held out her hand, her expression softening with sympathy. “I get the impression the _Amazo_ was a hell all it’s own,” she said compassionately. “I’m sorry you had to endure that.”

“If I had not, I would not have met Oliver,” Anatoli said. “Still, would love to have had more time with Ivo to express displeasure.” Anatoli’s eyes darkened for a moment at the remembrance of Anthony Ivo. “Now, much as I wish I could get to know you better, Oliver and I have pressing matter to attend to.”

“He’s right, Laurel,” Oliver said quietly. “Why don’t you swing by this evening?” Laurel nodded, and she left without another word, trusting that Oliver would tell her what he could when they were alone.

“Now, Oliver, tell us everything about this attack that happened, and the previous incident,” Anatoli said without a trace of his typical joviality after one of his bodyguards confirmed Laurel had gotten on the elevator.

**_*DC*_ **

Oliver, Anatoli, and the two bodyguards, Alexei Volkoff and Dimitri Rascalov, entered the autobody shop that the Bratva operated out of at this point in time and immediately became the focus of the attention of every person present. Alexi Leonov looked as though he had swallowed a lemon, though in Oliver’s opinion he always looked like that. “Pakhan,” Alexi said in greeting. “Always nice to get a visit from the motherland.”

“Not so nice when you hear what I have to say, Leonov,” Anatoli replied frostily. “You have attacked my friend and his sister. Did you think you would get away with this?” A gesture from Anatoli had Volkoff and Rascalov moving forward, grabbing Alexi and dragging him to a work bench with a vice, which they forced his hand into and secured it. Anatoli picked up an aptly-named bow saw. Leonov shouted expletives and condemnations in Russian while everyone looked on. Oliver kept his face impassive even as Anatoli set the blade against Leonov’s exposed wrist and began to cut.

The expletives and condemnations soon transformed into wordless, muffled screams (muffled from Rascalov’s hand clenched over Leonov’s mouth) before, with a wet sucking sound, the hand separated from the rest of the body and fell into the pool of blood that had gathered below it. Leonov was left moaning weakly in agony as he continued to bleed out as Anatoli turned to face the remainder. “Oliver Queen is now in charge of this chapter of Bratva. If I must come back here a second time, I will not stop with Leonov. Change comes to Bratva. Be careful you do not get sucked into propeller of change.”

Anatoli made a gesture and Oliver followed him out with Volkoff and Rascalov bringing up the rear. Oliver doubted that he would be having any trouble from the Russians in Starling from this point forward, although he would need to broach the topic with Anatoli that things seemed to be piling up on his plate and he wasn’t sure that he had the time to put into running the Starling City chapter of the Bratva on top of being Green Arrow _and_ running the Applied Sciences division of Queen Consolidated.

The responsibilities were piling up, as was the pressure on all sides. Somehow, he had to find the strength inside of him to do the impossible and juggle all of the responsibilities that had been handed to him. Because he knew Novu wanted him to do more than just change the timeline for his city’s benefit; he wanted him to change the timeline so that Barry and Sara were more responsible in their own actions, make the heroes who stood against the coming Crisis even stronger than they had been, even though he wouldn’t be able to do much as far as Kara and her associates were concerned until the ability to travel between Earths was available. **_*3*_**

**_*DC*_ **

Mar-Novu stood and observed the changing timelines, nodding to himself. Oliver was doing what he had hoped, strengthening his city and standing as a light against the darkness. Even his choice to kill James Holder would not be remembered in the grand scheme of things, and Oliver need only hold out until the Dominator invasion, at which point he could force the issue of a pardon for himself and any other vigilantes who had gone to extreme measures as a way the country could pay them back.

But, unfortunately, it appeared that the time was coming soon when Mar-Novu would have to intervene. The Flash and the Legends were aware of the changes happening to the timeline and were intending to come to the past to discover the source of those changes, and all those changes had centered around Oliver. Novu would not have his chosen agent stopped, especially by those who had all but signed that agent’s death certificate by their selfish antics. **_*4*_**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter.
> 
> Chapter Notes:
> 
> *1* For those who do not know… my most merciless and hateful creation has arrived. The Huntsman is in Starling City.
> 
> *2* Laurel Lance, much like Quentin Lance, is much sharper than, ahem, certain parties like to pretend and given the right tools can figure out things in bursts of brilliant inspiration. This is one such time.
> 
> *3* I debated between this and Anatoli just savagely beating Alexi to a pulp. I know that the latter would’ve been more of a nod to the KGBeast, but I want to work up to that. I hope this was a good first step towards Anatoli becoming the ruthless beast.
> 
> *4* No one is going to convince me that the Legends mucking about the timeline and Barry and Nora doing the same damn thing didn’t bring the Crisis, and therefore Oliver’s destiny with death, forward.


	17. Dinner Party

Oliver had returned to the loft with his Russian compatriots. He dug the bottle of vodka Anatoli had given him out of the freezer and poured four glasses of it. The four men picked up their glasses and raised them. “Prochnost,” Anatoli said, the four men clinking glasses and drinking. “Ah, much better,” Anatoli said. “Dealing with brothers like Leonov is always struggle. Have had to deal with others who resist change.”

“Speaking of, I’m not sure how much I’ll be able to manage things here,” Oliver told his friend. “Between my work at Queen Consolidated and my night-time activities, I don’t have a lot of time to handle the business of running the Bratva’s activities here in Starling. I can handle things in the short-term, but long-term you might want to groom someone who can take over.”

“You must make time, Oliver,” Anatoli said heavily. “It pains me to force this upon you, knowing that you have much you already must carry. But only you will know what is best for Bratva in Starling City. This will let you make sure certain _activities_ are not brought back.”

Oliver sighed and nodded slowly. “I’ll find the time,” he said quietly. In truth, he had a feeling one way or another he would end up being C.E.O. of Queen Consolidated by January, whether Walter was kidnapped or not. The man had ducked away from Queen Consolidated and his marriage with Moira as soon as he could after he had been rescued in the previous timeline, but the catalyst for all of that had been Moira’s involvement with the Undertaking. If Oliver exposed Merlyn at Christmas, and the plot to bring down the Glades at the same time, then it was likely Walter would leave.

If things went the same as last time, Walter would end up kidnapped, and Oliver had already positioned himself to take control of the company if need be. Once he was C.E.O., most of his duties could be delegated to the other officers of the company. He knew this from when his father had been C.E.O.; it was why he had been blindsided by the way the board had practically fawned over Rochev when she was co-C.E.O. Which reminded him; he would need to deal with that little problem before it could become one by making sure he held the majority shares. It would take some work, and quite a bit of blackmail which Russian muscle just might come in handy with, but it could be done long before Rochev became an issue.

Anatoli, unaware of the thoughts swirling through his friend’s head, nodded, pleased that Oliver was not fighting him on this. “You are making right decision, Oliver,” he told his friend. “But my work here is done. I cannot leave Moscow for long. There are still those who wish for return to days under Gregor. Knowing that I have you in my corner again will make them think twice.”

“Then I’m glad I can be of some help despite not being in Moscow,” Oliver said, raising his glass again. “To a better future.”

“Da,” Anatoli said, and the four clinked their glasses together. “Before I leave, though, I have warning: I read up on major players in Starling on plane. Was surprised to come across name I know. Malcolm Merlyn.”

“How do you know Malcolm?” Oliver asked in surprise.

“Met him, in Kovar’s office,” Anatoli replied. “Was Merlyn who supplied Kovar with information on Sarin gas. Also learned that he aided Kovar after you supposedly killed him. Been hunting Kovar ever since.”

“That is… unexpected news,” Oliver admitted. “I knew Merlyn was twisted and he has a horrifying plan for the Glades here in Starling… but I didn’t realize he was also involved in international terrorism. That makes my decision to go after him an easier one. And you don’t need to worry about Kovar. He tracked me down on Lian Yu. Remember the sleeper hold that mimics death I showed you?” Anatoli nodded, a grim smile on his face as he realized what Oliver was about to say. “I’m sure Kovar found it a novel experience to be fully aware of everything around him as he slowly became starved and dehydrated. That’s assuming the island’s wildlife didn’t help him along.”

“Could not have happened to better man,” Anatoli said. “Be very careful with Merlyn, Oliver. He is snake.”

“And I’m a mongoose,” Oliver dead-panned, earning a chuckle from Anatoli and his guards. Anatoli and his men left soon after, and Oliver returned the vodka to the freezer to keep it cold. He turned and found himself back on the platform in the middle of space, facing Novu. “What’s happened?” Oliver asked, knowing that Novu wouldn’t have brought him here just for a friendly chat.

“The Flash and the Legends have been taking note of the changes to the timeline,” Novu said. “As you might have guessed, they guard their ability to change the timeline at their whim jealously, unwilling to believe others could have a better understanding of this terrible power. If the changes continue, which I assume they will as you seem intent on making things right that you failed to do before, they will seek to return the timeline to match their own as much as possible.”

“I don’t suppose I can just wait for them to come to me and reason with them?” Oliver asked, feeling his stomach curdling in dread. At Novu’s shake of the head he knew he was right. “What is their plan?”

“They will not come to this time, Oliver,” Novu replied. “Right now, they’re not sure if someone is feeding you information about the future. Once they realize it is you who is changing things, they will go to the hospital while you sleep the night you returned to Starling and erase all of your memories, restoring the timeline to its, in their minds, proper order.”

“So, what are my options, since I’m not about to sit here and let them wipe away everything I’ve done and plan to do?” Oliver asked.

“There are two,” Novu replied. “In the first, you and I will confront them in the future when they prepare to journey back via the _Waverider_. I will give you the knowledge of all of the alternate timelines _they’ve_ created to give you the chance to properly vent at what their actions have caused to happen to you. Then I will wipe them from existence.”

Oliver grimaced. On the one hand, a chance to confront Barry and Sara about their actions was tempting, but Oliver didn’t think he really had the right to do so when he was changing things to a greater degree, as even just those first few days where Laurel got kidnapped by Hunt and Gitter showed. He also had no desire to see his friends, regardless of how angry he was at them, wiped from existence by The Monitor. “What’s the other option?” he asked quietly.

“The other option is to destroy that timeline in its entirety,” Novu replied. “You are already on a path that will see the Legends and their original mission wiped from the timeline.” Oliver raised a curious eyebrow, but Novu ignored it as he continued, “That leaves The Flash. There is only one way to destroy this timeline, Oliver. You must kill Eobard Thawne in this time, before he has regained his speed, and you must do so soon. Within the next twenty-four hours, in fact. The Flash and the Legends will not hesitate to act, and I fear they are quickly concluding that it is Oliver Queen that is changing the timeline and not someone else, such as Thawne or another Speedster. You must make your choice, quickly.”

Oliver turned and looked out at the sea of stars twinkling all around him. This was yet another horrifying choice laid out before him, all because of time travel, and this time, there was no escaping a horrible outcome. Either way, his friends, his comrades-in-arms that he had fought aliens, Alternate Earth Nazis, the delusions of Deegan, and the beginning of the Crisis with would be wiped from existence. One choice left the future intact and gave him a chance to further mentor Barry, Sara, and every other hero from Earth-1 so that when those events began to play out, their foes faced a more confident (and competent) assembly of heroes; but that choice required him to confront his friends and comrades head-on and stand idly by as Mar-Novu wiped them from existence. Considering Novu’s scorn for his friends’ selfish antics, he doubted the man would make it a gentle erasure.

The other option would see the timeline he knew, the enemies he had knowledge of, wiped out completely. He would have no forewarning, no way to be certain things would play out as they had before, and he couldn’t even be assured that those who had joined him in the ranks of vigilantes and heroes standing against the darkness would do so at the proper times. If he remembered right, the Crisis had originally taken place in 2024, and Barry had told him they had learned from Gideon and the Time Vault that he didn’t originally become The Flash until 2020. But this option meant he wouldn’t have to physically stand there and watch those he cared for be wiped from existence by the closest thing to a god that he had ever met (and successfully argued against). **_*1*_**

“If I kill Thawne,” he said quietly, “does that mean the original timeline restored to a point? Barry not becoming The Flash until 2020, the Crisis not happening until 2024?”

“Yes,” Novu replied. “Without Thawne’s guidance, the scientists at work on the Particle Accelerator will have to go over the details manually and discover the errors Thawne had in place to ensure the creation of The Flash. As Thawne’s replacement will be Hartley Rathaway, an anti-social genius who has little patience for the quirks of others, it will take many more years than necessary to fulfill the dream Harrison Wells and Tess Morgan envisioned in the original timeline.”

“Which will also leave some of those who would have worked for Thawne or are currently working for him looking for new work,” Oliver mused, his mind going to a certain Hispanic tech genius who had a love of upgrading the suits worn by heroes and a genius with degrees in bio-engineering and psychology. The former, at least, was doubtfully willing to work with Rathaway from what Barry had told him since it had taken a time travel screw-up by Barry to bring Hartley around. But the question still gnawed at him; did he want to give up his foreknowledge and face the unknown with only his bow and his grit? The memory of his last stand against the shadow demons flashed through his mind and he smiled grimly. He had already proven he could and would stand against the unknown with just that. “I know what I have to do,” Oliver said quietly. “Send me back.” Novu nodded, and a moment later, Oliver was back in his apartment, standing by the refrigerator. A chiming from his phone signaled he had received a new text from someone.

Checking the phone, Oliver scoffed, “Typical.” The message was from John Diggle, confirming his decision to terminate his employment with Oliver due to irreconcilable differences. Oliver had guessed this would be the case, however, and prepared accordingly. He had purchased a Chevrolet Camaro, the newest model, with a dark green paint job and black racing stripe to drive around when he wasn’t using his motorcycle, such as if he had an outing with Laurel or Thea.

He dismissed the menu, selecting his contacts list and scrolling down to Laurel’s name. He selected it and hit the call icon before tapping the ‘speakerphone’ icon. The phone rang once, twice, then Laurel picked up. “Hey, Ollie,” she said warmly, albeit distractedly.

“Hey, Laurel, I hate to do this to you, but I’ve got to leave town for a couple of days and take care of some business,” Oliver told her. “In the meantime, I’ve got something you might want to look into.”

“What?” Laurel asked, her voice all business, instinctively knowing this had to do with Oliver’s activities and the ongoing battle against the wealthy and corrupt.

“Peter Declan is innocent and facing execution in a little over a week’s time,” Oliver said. “Go to him, find out his side of the story. We’ll talk more once I get back. Oh, and I’ll definitely be back in time for the auction. Do you need my help with getting a dress?”

“Considering I’ll be mingling with cutthroats who judge you with how you act, dress, speak, and look? Probably,” Laurel replied resignedly. “But don’t get any ideas about completely changing my wardrobe, Oliver Queen. And if you even _think_ the word fishnets…”

“Too late,” Oliver replied with a grin, earning an exasperated groan. To be fair, that particular outfit had driven Oliver a bit mad and they had been rather _late_ to Tommy’s Halloween party, at which he had given the two of them a knowing look and lecherous smirk. “I promise, I won’t be overhauling your wardrobe and I think we should keep the fishnets thing for _special_ occasions.”

“You have a dirty mind, Mr. Queen,” Laurel informed him.

“Only when it comes to you, Miss Lance,” Oliver replied. “I’ll call you later, when I get to my destination. For now, I gotta pack.”

“One thing before you go,” Laurel said. “Is this about what we talked about this morning or Queen Consolidated business?”

“Neither,” Oliver replied. “There’s more than one corrupt businessman planning things that could have devastating consequences, Laurel. That’s all I can say for now.” He and Laurel said goodbye, and Walter re-opened his contacts list, this time selecting Walter’s name. “Walter, I have to go out of town for a couple of days. I’ll be back by the time we need to attend the auction.”

“Can it wait?” Walter asked. “Your mother intended to ask you to one of her dinner parties this evening, a first foray into the social sphere before your big debut since your return, as it were.”

“I’m afraid not,” Oliver replied. “It’s a bit of a time crunch, unfortunately. If this weren’t so important, I would give it a pass and come to the party tonight.”

“Oliver?” Walter’s voice had been replaced by his mother’s. “I distinctly recall how you were at these parties before. You need to be able to handle this with far more poise than you have in the past. I understand whatever this is seems very important to you, but I promise you, attending this dinner will be far more important in the long run than whatever it is your gallivanting off to do.”

Oliver was silent for a moment. It wasn’t like he could tell his mother that he needed to go to Central City and kill a madman from the 2100s who was posing as Dr. Harrison Wells because otherwise his friends from the future were going to erase his memory two weeks in the past and stop him from changing everything. His mother probably thought he was ducking away for a good romp in a motel bed somewhere, like he had in the past. His mother didn’t understand yet; there was only one woman for him, the woman he had just been talking with, the woman he had always loved, the woman he had had to say goodbye to in a dream world thrust upon him by cruel aliens.

“Oliver?” Moira prompted again.

“I suppose I can push my departure off until after the party,” Oliver finally said. “It means I might barely get back for the auction, though. Depends how long my business takes. But if I’m doing this, I’m bringing someone.”

“Very well,” Moira sighed. “Just make sure they’re not one of those airheaded models you and Thomas so favored. He’ll probably be bringing one himself since he and Malcolm are joining us tonight.” There was a hint of strain to Moira’s voice as she said Malcolm’s name, barely noticeable unless you had been trained as Oliver had been.

“I assure you, my guest will be of unimpeachable character,” Oliver said. “See you tonight, Mom.” He hung up after his mother’s distracted goodbye and began typing a quick text to Laurel. _Change of plans. Mom’s forcing me to attend a dinner party to help me acclimate to the social scene again. Merlyn will be there. Care to join me? You’ll need to work on being in the same room with him a lot if we’re going to make this work._ He sent the text off and headed up to his bedroom, dragging a duffel bag out of the closet and beginning to pack a few days’ worth of clothes into it.

His phone chimed, signaling a return text from Laurel. He picked his phone up and brought up the new message. _I’ll go with you. I have to practice it anyways, for the fundraiser you want to throw C.N.R.I. Better to have a couple of entries into the social scene that aren’t the awkward, lovesick girl I used to be before that. Pick me up at 4 p.m. so we can go find an appropriate dress._

Oliver smiled. Tonight was going to be _interesting_ to say the least. He returned to packing.

**_*DC*_ **

Oliver’s Camaro pulled up in front of the mansion’s main entrance, and he got out, dressed in a finely-cut suit and tie. He handed the keys off the valet his mother and Walter had hired to park their guests’ cars and walked around to the passenger’s side, opening the door and offering his hand to the woman inside. Laurel’s slender hand slipped into his rough warrior’s hand and he guided her to her feet. She was clad in a sleeveless, black one-piece dress that swept down to her ankles, hiding the high heels she wore that gave her a few extra inches in height so as to not be completely dwarfed by Oliver, who she normally came up to the shoulder of and had to go up on her toes to give a kiss.

Her honey-blonde hair was pulled up in a business-like bun, exposing her slender neck and the eye-catching pearl necklace resting there. They were a part of a gift Oliver had given her two years before the _Gambit_ , which she now knew coincided with his pregnancy scare. The other part of the gift she was also wearing tonight, a pair of tasteful diamond earrings. “I feel like such a _fraud,_ ” Laurel whispered to him as he led her towards the mansion’s front door. “This dress… the necklace, earrings… these people are going to _know_ I don’t belong, they’ll know I’m just the daughter of a simple detective and the head of a non-profit legal aid office. Nowhere close to their league.”

“You are wrong, Laurel,” Oliver replied quietly. “You are so far out of their league. These people merely pretend to give a damn about the people when it’s in their best interests to appear so. When they talk of what’s best for Starling City, they really mean what’s best for them and their bottom line. When they look at you, they see everything that they _pretend_ to be. Never forget that.” Oliver stopped, straightening and turning to look her in the eye. “Shall we, Miss Lance?”

“We shall, Mr. Queen,” she said, lips quirking into a soft smile. It also helped her to know that most of the people she was about to have to deal with for an evening were likely to be visited by a certain Emerald Archer at some point. That would help her in keeping the appropriate polite smile mask in place. The real hardship would be playing nice with the senior Merlyn if he directed his attention her way. Knowing what she did now, about what the man had done to her personally and what he could do if he ever discovered she was aware of this fact would be the main things keeping her from reacting to him, but she knew it would be a close call. Hopefully, Merlyn would focus more on Oliver than her, seeing as Oliver was his godson.

Oliver and Laurel entered the mansion and found Walter, Moira, and Thea waiting. Thea’s eyes widened at the sight of Laurel standing beside Oliver before a wide grin stretched across the girl’s features and she rushed forward, greeting both of them with a hug. “Hey, Speedy,” Laurel said with a smile. “It’s been a long time. Sorry I haven’t kept in touch.”

“Hey, I understood,” Thea said with a shrug. “I’m just glad you two could sort everything out.” She turned her attention to Oliver. “Don’t let her get away from you again, big bro. I don’t think you’ll survive losing her again.”

“That’s more true than you could possibly imagine, Thea,” Oliver said softly, looking at Laurel, and everyone present could see the raw emotion in his blue eyes. Laurel blushed slightly and moved forward to greet Moira and Walter.

“It’s good to see you again, Laurel,” Moira said, ignoring the fact that she had been telling Oliver only in the last week that he should stay the hell away from Laurel if she was going to be getting involved with cases against dangerous people like China White.

“Miss Lance,” Walter greeted with a nod. “Its nice to see that you’re recovering from your ordeal.”

“Which one?” Laurel asked with a raised eyebrow. “Hunt or Chien Na Wei?” Walter looked uncomfortable, and Laurel’s expression softened. “I’m recovering from both, but I think I’d be a lot worse if I didn’t have Oliver in my life. He’s been a great friend.”

“Well, I know a thing or two about surviving a hellish experience…” Oliver said simply, trailing off as he was reminded not only of his years away from Starling City, but the battles he had waged in the future for the fate of his city, battles that may not occur in this new timeline considering his path forward. _Don’t think about that now,_ Oliver told himself harshly. He needed to focus on getting through this dinner party without making a revealing comment to Merlyn or a scathing comment to Walter about the people he had helped Robert Queen cheat.

Oliver and Laurel were the last to arrive, and so the Queens and Laurel moved to enter the dining room. Tommy was looking in their direction with a blonde model and his eyes widened slightly at seeing them enter the room together before he shook his head with a rueful grin on his face, and rueful grin that both Oliver and Laurel realized in their own minds was probably hiding the hurt that he was feeling since neither of them had bothered to tell their best friend they were back together. The two exchanged a quick look to confirm with each other they would need to talk to him soon.

Dinner was well underway by the time the topic managed to roll around to the current hot topic in Starling City, the Green Arrow. This was a lot sooner than had happened in the previous timeline, in part because of how public the Green Arrow was; in comparison, the Hood had been a shadow, a myth that hardly anyone believed in. He had, Oliver realized, been like the Batman of Gotham until the Christmas confrontation with Merlyn’s alter ego. Inevitably, the comparison of Green Arrow to Robin Hood came up and Commissioner Nudocerdo couldn’t let that stand.

“The thing that people forget is that _Robin Hood_ was a criminal,” Nudocerdo said, conveniently ignoring the fact that the Sherriff of Nottingham and Prince John had been corrupt and wealthy and lorded over the people who had nothing, like those seated around the table did over the people of Starling City. Oliver and Laurel’s hands were clasped below the table (they had finished their meals already) and both were trying their best not to imbibe too much alcohol.

“And stealing from the rich to give to the poor is really the job of the Democrats,” one of the other guests said, earning good-natured chuckles and a tightening of their grips from Oliver and Laurel, the latter of which hid the thinning of her lips by taking a sip of champagne. Oliver didn’t recognize him or his wife, which meant they must be ‘new money’ and looking to further ingratiate themselves with the power players of Starling City. He’d ask Felicity to look into them while he was gone, make sure that they weren’t anyone who should’ve been on The List.

“All joking aside, Commissioner,” Malcolm said, “crime is _down_ for the first time in five years, and there can be no doubt as to the cause. The Green Arrow managed to take down the entire Triad in one night, and scuppered their last, desperate attempt to stay in power when they tried to kidnap Thea and her friends.”

“Yes, the Green Arrow seems to have had a chilling effect on the city’s criminals,” Walter said idly, far more noncommittal in this setting than he had been in his soundbyte on this morning’s segment on the Green Arrow. Oliver had managed to watch the segment on YouTube and found that the overall feeling from the city was one of acceptance, despite his slaying of James Holder. That was probably what had the commissioner in such an agitated state and why he had reacted as he did about the Robin Hood comparison; those same people who were accepting Green Arrow as their salvation from the hardships of the past five or more years were also painting Nudocerdo as a modern-day Sherriff of Nottingham. **_*2*_**

Malcolm was still smiling in amusement at how this topic seemed to be affecting the people around the table as he turned his gaze towards Oliver and Laurel, noticing both had slight, near-indiscernible smiles on their faces as they kept their gaze fixated on their plates or champagne flutes. Laurel, he understood, considering her apparent connection with the Green Arrow, a connection that he still needed to find the right way to exploit. But Oliver’s smile was disconcerting; did he know something the others around the table did not? Or was he simply thinking good thoughts of the man who had saved Laurel’s life twice now? Malcolm could certainly understand the latter, because he knew he would feel the same way if someone had saved his wife all those years ago the way Laurel had been saved. He decided to see if he could dig into his godson’s mind. “What are your thoughts, Oliver?” he asked, knowing better than to ask Laurel Lance’s opinion on the man who had championed her and those she, in turn, championed.

Oliver was conflicted at this request, even though he had half-expected it to come. Despite the fact this was 2012, he still had his 2019 mindset, and he had spent so long and fought so hard as Green Arrow that he couldn’t simply set aside all of his accomplishments in either timeline. Moreover, the comment from the ‘new money’ fellow about it being the job of the Democrats to give to the poor was just begging to be answered, in part because Oliver _hated_ how ineffectual he had been as Mayor of Star City. He had run as an Independent so as to not get bogged down by expectations either way, and as a result he had had to fight tooth and nail for everything he wanted to get done, and half the time it was never done to his satisfaction. That atrocious gun control bill, which was such in name only, was a prime example of that, in his opinion. It had boiled down to maintaining the status quo while the city council bickered back and forth.

So it wasn’t Oliver Queen, broken survivor of five years in hell and secretive vigilante, who answered, but Oliver Queen, the hero who had led heroes from two Earths against countless threats (despite his attempts to foist the responsibility off on Barry during the Dominator crisis) and a one-time mayor of Star(ling) City. **_*3*_**

“I think that it is a judgment against our city that it takes the actions of a masked vigilante to bring about justice for those who have been victimized by this criminal elite that seems to have run rampant in the city,” Oliver said, his voice strong and his tone forceful. “I think it is a judgment against the very people sitting around this table that, instead of asking how we can make our city a better place for _all_ its citizens, we instead have a mocking comment about how it’s the job of the Democrats.

“I spent five years in hell, five years where I never knew what the next day would bring. I was beaten, I was tortured, I was starved, and I was raped. I learned that there will always be those who seek to prosper from cruelty and glory in the power they get from stepping on the throats of those without power. I learned how to take that power back, and I promised myself that when I had the power to help, I would. And I will.” Oliver stood in the stunned silence that followed and held his hand out for Laurel. “I don’t expect most of you to come, but be aware there will be a fundraiser for C.N.R.I. in a few weeks’ time to raise funds so that Miss Lance here and her associates can continue to work in their own way to bring justice back to Starling City, despite the S.C.P.D.’s undeniable corruption.” He turned to look at Laurel, ignoring the snarl that came from the Commissioner’s direction. “Shall we go?”

“Yes, I believe it’s time to leave,” Laurel said, rising smoothly from her seat. “Thank you for the dinner, Mrs. Queen; being here was very enlightening. But I’m afraid the air has grown rather _foul_.” Oliver and Laurel departed the dining room, leaving a group of diners who were stunned to a man and woman, aside from _one_.

Malcolm Merlyn hadn’t expected his godson to be so effusive or to reveal so much about what had happened to him. He could feel Tommy sitting beside him and didn’t have to look to know his son’s expression was shocked and horrified. Moira appeared near tears while Thea had run out of the room after her brother and his plus one. Malcolm, though, was considering the couple that had just left here. Together, they were a powerful match, perhaps enough to challenge the status quo he had enforced all these years, especially if the suspicions now percolating in his mind about what Oliver meant about doing what he could to help now that he had the power to panned out. He couldn’t leave anything to chance; he needed to get rid of one of them, and if his suspicions about Oliver were true, than his godson would be far more useful than the opinionated young attorney.

Once he was done here, he would need to contact the Huntsman. There was another target that needed to be dealt with; in comparison to Laurel Lance, Felicity Smoak wasn’t even a footnote and the only danger she truly posed was exposing evidence to Walter of things from five years ago, and Walter could be dealt with if need be. He had heard from Moira that Oliver would be leaving Starling City tonight on some unknown business. This was the perfect opportunity to get rid of Miss Lance. **_*4*_**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter.
> 
> Chapter Notes:
> 
> *1* As always, I want to paint the picture that there are consequences to meddling with time and leave Oliver with having to choose between the lesser of two evils.
> 
> *2* This is deliberate. Nudocerdo is going to play a much larger role, particularly after the Christmas confrontation.
> 
> *3* Again, we have to keep in mind that this Oliver is NOT the Oliver who went through this type of thing originally. I also want to take this time to point out that, in the comics, Oliver Queen/Green Arrow is a liberal, and I can confirm that if he gets involved in politics in this story, that is where he’ll be taking up a political mantle. So I’m giving people who don’t like the idea the chance to get out now, before it ever reaches that point. 
> 
> *4* Bad idea, Malcolm. VERY bad idea…


	18. Open Wounds

Oliver and Laurel stood outside the Queen Mansion, waiting for the valet to return with the Camaro; Thea had pursued them from the dining room and came to a stop behind them. “I’m coming with you,” Thea said, giving her brother a look when he turned around to face her with a raised eyebrow. “You can’t expect me to just sit by when I know you’ve gotta be hurting from what you just revealed in there, Ollie. Please… you were there for me when I needed it. Let me be there for you now.”

“Thea speaks for both of us, Ollie,” Laurel said softly. “I know you plan to leave town tonight for business, and you still can, but right now you’ve got to be hurting over what you told those people in there. Let the people who love you help you.”

Oliver sighed, lowering his head and giving a quick, sharp nod. He hadn’t meant to reveal what he had, but what was done was done, and the truth was, he had never really dealt with _that_. He had always pushed it down and ignored it; it was probably why he had put up with all the crap that Felicity had pulled over the years, insulting his intelligence and countermanding him in front of the team being the top two issues that had laid between them throughout their relationship and marriage. He had felt he deserved nothing more. He supposed he could work through it with the therapist that his mother had asked him to talk to (in fact, he knew his mother would insist upon it), but first he had to actually attempt to attend a session. **_*1*_**

The valet pulled the Camaro up to the curb and Oliver held the door open for Laurel and Thea, the latter of whom climbed in the back of the car. Oliver circled around the car and had reached the driver’s side door when his mother appeared in the doorway of the mansion, distraught. “Oliver!” she called tremulously, but Oliver ignored the call from his mother and got into the Camaro, shifting gears quickly and pulling away from the mansion. He didn’t need to hear a lecture about how he had brought shame to the Queen name right now, especially when the ones who had really brought shame to the Queen name were herself and Robert.

Oliver’s hands were gripping the wheel tightly as memories that he had long-buried came to the surface with sudden, violent intensity. He tried to shove them down with his normal ruthlessness, but it was like something else was forcing those memories past his ruthless block. He could practically smell the rusty metal of the dark hold, hear the creak of his cell door opening, feel the rough hands forcing him down, one hand pulling back his shaggy head of hair. Oliver realized, almost too late, that the car was beginning to drift because of his trembling hands, and he corrected course before pulling to the side of the road, where he shifted into park and pulled his trembling hands away from the steering wheel.

“Ollie…” Thea whispered, her voice thick with emotion as she stared at her brother as the walls that he had built between himself and the rest of the world were torn down before their very eyes.

Laurel said nothing but leaned across the seat and pulled Oliver towards her, bringing his head to lay in her lap as she had so often in the past. “Shh, it’s okay, Ollie,” Laurel whispered, running her slender fingers through his bristly hair. “You’re home, you’re safe. Those people can’t hurt you anymore.” She had a horrible feeling she knew where it had happened; the things Sara had said in her letter let her know what kind of people had lived on the _Amazo_ , the ship that Oliver and Anatoli had been imprisoned on for an unknown amount of time, but enough to leave Anatoli wishing he had had ‘more time’ with a man named Ivo, who Laurel assumed was the one in charge of the _Amazo_.

Thea reached over the seat and placed a hand on her brother’s shoulder, rubbing her thumb gently back and forth. Oliver reached desperately for his sister’s hand, gripping it tightly as he finally let loose the cries of anguish that he had held back for eleven years (in his mind). It ripped at both Thea and Laurel’s hearts to hear the man who fought so fearlessly for their city (not that they knew the other was aware of this yet) crying over events that happened sometime in the past five years.

The three of them sat there in the car, on the side of the road, for nearly ten minutes before Oliver managed to pull himself together. “Sorry,” he said gruffly, trying to rebuild his walls. “I just… I haven’t thought about that for a long time. I thought I’d managed to put it behind me. Guess burying it isn’t really dealing with…” Laurel’s hand joined Thea’s on his left shoulder, and she smiled softly, sadly. Oliver pulled himself into a sitting position and began to drive again. Oliver was slowly rebuilding his walls during the drive, using all of the training that Slade, Talia, and Ra’s had imparted upon him to do so. Soon, the lights of the city were surrounding them, and Oliver was pulling into the underground garage of the apartment building his loft was located in.

“So, uh, Ollie, does Laurel know about, you know, the other stuff?” Thea asked curiously, since she needed to know how open she could be about what she knew about her brother’s activities.

“I know he’s the Green Arrow, if that’s what you’re asking, Speedy,” Laurel said with a smile, reaching out and brushing her fingers tenderly across Oliver’s right cheek. He reached up, entwining his fingers with hers. “I always knew there was a good man buried beneath your brother’s swagger. It’s nice to be vindicated.”

“Sometimes, I don’t feel all that good,” Oliver whispered as he cut the engine and pulled the key from the ignition. He got out, Laurel opening her own door since they no longer had to put on a show for the elite of Starling City, pulling the seat forward so Thea could clamber out. The girl stumbled briefly due to the high heels she was wearing. Laurel caught her, giving the teenager an understanding smile. She had hated having to learn how to walk in high heels, but she had found that men who could _look down_ on her due to her wearing flats wouldn’t see her as either an equal or someone to be concerned with, something she didn’t want considering what her goal at C.N.R.I. was.

“You are,” Laurel reaffirmed as she took his arm, Thea catching the other one and aiming a grin up at her brother when he looked down at her with an amused smile twitching at his lips. “I don’t know where you got the idea that you weren’t, but if I have to, I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure you know that you _are_ a good man.”

Oliver, Laurel, and Thea entered the elevator and Oliver pressed the button for his floor. He knew that once they reached the loft, the two women in the elevator with him, the two most important women in his life, would want to talk to him about what had happened, but he also knew they wouldn’t pressure him into it. Thea was more cautious in how she approached him after he had explained his scars to her after she had been attacked by China White, and Laurel had always been a woman whose heart ruled her. The elevator dinged, and the door slid open. Oliver, Laurel, and Thea exited and headed for the loft. Oliver opened the door and led the two women into his loft, the first time for Thea, only for all three to stop in their tracks as they saw the person waiting for them.

“What the _hell_ are you doing here?” Oliver demanded to know.

“The decision has been made, Oliver Queen,” Mar-Novu replied, and Oliver felt as if an ice cube had just slid down his spine.

“How long?” he asked quietly, confusing the two women with him.

“If Eobard Thawne is not dead by the stroke of midnight in two days’ time, everything you have fought for will cease to be,” Novu replied.

“I understand,” Oliver said. He would have words with Novu in private later about putting him in this position, since he didn’t know what he could tell his sister and, what was Laurel? Friend? Girlfriend? They had only just begun seeing each other in a romantic capacity again, and despite the fact they each knew what drove the other, they hadn’t really settled on the all-important question of what they called one another. Novu further complicated the matter by turning and disappearing in a column of black smoke and white light.

“Ollie,” Laurel said into the silence. “Who-what was that?”

Oliver sighed and nodded in the direction of the couch. The two women let him guide them to the couch, and he sat down. “That was Mar-Novu, or as he calls himself, The Monitor. He is the closest thing to a god I have ever met. He was the one that revealed all that I know to me.” It was technically true; Oliver wouldn’t know about everything that would’ve been coming and was still coming as far as Merlyn and Slade were concerned without Novu sending his spirit back into his younger body. “He recently informed me that there is a group who have decided my actions are a danger to their own wants and desires, a group that has the ability to travel through time. The only way to stop them is to completely destroy the timeline they exist in.”

“This sounds like something out of a science fiction movie,” Thea scoffed.

“It’s true, Speedy,” Oliver said, turning his head to smile sadly at his sister. “Novu showed me what laid in store for me if he hadn’t brought me into his service last year. It wasn’t pretty. I wasn’t lying earlier tonight, when I told you that what you said about losing Laurel was truer than you knew. I saw myself lose her in the worst way possible. I saw her die, and I was powerless to stop it. So, I do what Novu asks, when he asks. He leaves me to my own devices for the most part. But I learned the hard way that trying to fight him will only make things worse. So, I do what he says.”

“Who is Eobard Thawne?” Laurel asked.

“Eobard Thawne is a terrorist of sorts, and a time traveling one at that,” Oliver replied, hedging around the details that he knew from Barry. “He has access to technology far beyond what we have available to us today, but his ability to travel through time has been lost. He has used his advanced technology to steal another’s identity. He is integral to the timeline that the time travelers I mentioned occupy. Killing him will destroy that timeline.”

“Something tells me he didn’t take the identity of Joe Random,” Thea said nervously, seeing her brother was completely serious. A small part of her briefly wondered if her brother was insane, but then she remembered how that Novu guy had left them in the loft after delivering his cryptic message. That kind of made it clear that things that she would’ve thought impossible were in fact possible and even happening while she lived and breathed.

“No, he didn’t,” Oliver said quietly. “He has spent almost fifteen years working towards one goal: finding a way back to his own time. In order to do this, he took the identity of one of our world’s foremost scientists in order to bring the creation of that man’s most important scientific achievement forward by six years. He took the identity of Harrison Wells and has been secretly advancing the world’s technology to match what was needed to build the particle accelerator they’re building underneath S.T.A.R. Labs in Central City.”

“Novu told you all of this?” Laurel asked softly.

“He made sure that I knew what I needed to,” Oliver confirmed, again, not exactly lying since without Novu bringing his spirit back to his younger body he wouldn’t have known any of this. Maybe one day he would be able to share the truth with Thea and Laurel, but for now it was just too fantastical, and the only one who would be able to convince them of the truth was Novu, who would consider it a step too far concerning his involvement in Oliver’s chosen path. “So that’s what I have to do. I have to stop a group of self-righteous time travelers from unraveling everything I’m doing by killing the man who is integral to their timeline.”

“This is causing you a lot of pain, Ollie,” Laurel said softly. “There’s something you’re not telling us. What’s going on?”

“It’s very complicated, Laurel, and I don’t understand half of it myself,” Oliver replied, which was true. He honestly didn’t understand why Barry and Sara, who changed the timeline on a whim half the time to suit their own ends, would be against his changing the timeline the way he had been doing. What he was doing was nothing more than they had done, and he had done his best to correct the course of the timeline when it changed to fix the screw-ups he had made, which was, again, more than either of them were willing to do based on what he knew of their timeline hijinks. Which, unfortunately, was quite a lot. Over the past few weeks, new knowledge had slowly leaked into Oliver’s mind, knowledge concerning alternate timelines that had come about because of Barry and the Legends’ meddling. “I should probably be going soon; I’ll drop you and Thea off at home before I leave town.”

“Ollie,” Laurel said firmly, “if you think that I’m going to let you face this decision without someone to help you through the emotional turmoil I can see this is causing, you don’t know me very well. You can take me home, long enough for me pack a bag to come with you to Central City.”

“Same here,” Thea said, and Oliver opened his mouth to object. “Ollie, we’ve barely talked since I found out about your night-time activities, and you still need to find time to train me like I asked. I just found out that you suffered through something no one should, and I can see that what you’ve been told to do by this Novu is ripping you up inside. Let us help…”

Oliver looked from Laurel to Thea and back again. Thanks to his future memories, he well-remembered just how stubborn these two could be and unlike the last time around, he was more open to bringing them into his world, because he had seen what happened when he tried to push them away. “Alright,” he said softly. “Let me change and get my bag.” Oliver headed for the staircase leading up to his bedroom, unable to help the soft smile that quirked at his lips. This was why he had to do what Novu told him; the bonds he was forming with Laurel and Thea were deeper than they had been even in the last timeline, and Oliver would do _anything_ to maintain those bonds.

But it still didn’t make it any easier when he accepted that what he was doing was not only going to erase that timeline but also wipe out all the people he had saved from Earth-38, Supergirl, and Superman. Even though he had only met the latter twice, he had come to respect him, and while he and Kara had got off on the wrong foot, he had come to consider her a friend. Knowing he was going to destroy all those lives and the lives of two people he at least respected, not to mention all those he cared for, was like a weight wrapped around his soul, damning him to sink to the depths of hell. **_*2*_**

**_*DC*_ **

Since they were already in Starling, they went to Laurel’s first so that she could change into more comfortable clothing and pack a bag. She also left a message on her friend (and now subordinate) Joanna’s voicemail telling her she would be out for a day or two but to keep everyone working. It was when they pulled into the drive leading towards the Queen Mansion that Oliver began to tense again. He was sure the dinner party would’ve broken up by now, but there was always the chance some of the attendees had hung back for a private word with his mother, and even if that wasn’t the case, he knew his mother would probably want a word with him and he needed to get her okay for Thea to come with, though considering her general inaction regarding Thea at this point in time he didn’t see there being any trouble on _that_ front. It was more what kind of conversation they would have regarding his and Laurel’s behavior earlier that concerned him.

He pulled the Camaro up to the front door, noting that only two cars remained from the dinner party guest list, and he recognized both of them. “Looks like the Merlyns are still here,” he said softly, and glanced over at Laurel, who nodded slightly to show she would keep herself under control. It was one thing to have a loose tongue in general aimed at the other guests, quite another to have one aimed directly at the senior Merlyn. Thea looked between them, confused, but decided she would ask them later what was up with Tommy and his dad that had them so nervous. The three of them got out and re-entered the mansion, two of them now clad in casual clothes (Oliver in his brown leather jacket, a light sweater, and jeans, Laurel in a pair of slim jeans, a striped long-sleeved t-shirt, jean jacket, and sneakers).

“Go upstairs and pack, Speedy,” Oliver said quietly, his keen hearing picking up the sounds of people talking in the sitting room, where at one time Slade Wilson had been waiting to greet him while worming his way into Moira’s confidences. Thea nodded and headed upstairs while Oliver and Laurel headed for the sitting room, deciding it was best to get this confrontation over with as soon as possible. When the two of them appeared in the doorway to the sitting room, all discussion faded as Moira, Walter, Malcolm, and Tommy quieted from discussing what was probably the aftermath of their departure.

“Oliver,” Moira said, looking relieved as she stood up. “Laurel. We were worried, the way you took off like that after what you said. Please, sit down.” Oliver and Laurel exchanged glances but took a seat on one of the couches. Moira, Walter, and Tommy sat down on the opposing couch while Malcolm sat in one of the armchairs, observing the situation with an impassive expression on his face for the time being. Oliver knew the man must be having _some_ suspicions about him after that show he had put on at dinner, so he needed to do some damage control, and _fast_ , before any plans solidified in Malcolm’s mind regarding what Oliver had said. “Oliver,” Moira began, but paused when Oliver held up a hand.

“Before you say anything, Mom, I need to say something,” Oliver said, and Moira nodded, settling back, with Walter putting his arm around her shoulders, rubbing her shoulder with his thumb. “I know the way I acted earlier was wrong. But after everything I’ve been through, I just couldn’t remain silent, especially with that one guy’s comment about how it’s the job of the Democrats to help people like those victimized by Adam Hunt and others like him. Who was he, anyways?”

“That was Thomas Wilkins, he and his wife recently moved to Starling,” Malcolm answered. “He has a rather high opinion of himself for someone who’s _barely_ a millionaire. He’s very mum about how he built his fortune.”

“Thanks,” Oliver said with a nod to Malcolm. “Anyways, I wanted to apologize to you, Mom, for ruining your dinner party. I know it didn’t go as you probably wanted it to.”

“Oliver, do you really think I care about a ruined _dinner party_?” Moira asked, her expression and tone hurt. “Oliver, what you told us happened to you is… I can hardly believe what you said, and I was there! All I’ve been thinking of is what you said since you, Laurel, and Thea left! Oliver, I know this must feel terrifying, but you _need_ to talk to Dr. Green about this.”

“I know,” Oliver whispered. “As to the rest of what I said… I want to clarify what I meant. A lot of my experiences in the past five years were at the hands of mercenaries hired by powerful people, people who were using their wealth for the wrong reasons. What I want to do is help the people in our city who desperately need it, like Laurel is doing at C.N.R.I. I thought I could donate some money to Rebecca’s clinic, maybe do a start-up fund for a homeless shelter or something to help those who are struggling get back on their feet.”

“I think that’s very noble of you, Oliver,” Malcolm said from his chair. “May I ask what exactly brought you to this conclusion?”

Oliver closed his eyes. There was only one thing that he could use to explain why he felt this way without making Malcolm’s suspicions worse, but he hadn’t intended for this confrontation to happen this way. He had hoped to talk to Walter on his own, or, at worst, confront him as Green Arrow. He opened his eyes again. “I’ve been doing some digging into the archives from five years ago,” he said. “I wanted to find out what could’ve happened to make someone angry enough to kidnap me and Tommy and question me about anything Robert might have told me before the _Gambit_ sank.” There was a stir from the others in the room at the way Oliver had addressed his father. “I only found one thing that could’ve made people that angry. The steel mill, and what happened to the workers that were let go when it was shut down.”

“Ah,” Walter said into the silence that followed. “I see. I suppose you want to know if I purposely led your father to the conclusion he came to?”

“I want to believe the best in you, Walter,” Oliver said, meeting his stepfather’s gaze. “But I thought the best of Robert, too.”

“I assure you, Oliver, that I merely brought it to your father’s attention since he wanted to know all of his options,” Walter said. “I had no idea he would choose the path he did, and we had words after the fact, believe me. It was one of the few times where we raised voices with one another.”

Oliver kept his gaze on his stepfather for a moment before nodding. “Anyways, ever since I found that, I’ve wanted to do something. I tracked down every family I could that was affected. Some of them died in the fires at James Holder’s tenements over the past five years. Most of the rest are trying to eek out a living in the Glades, which probably isn’t easy with how rampant crime is there.”

“No, I suspect it isn’t,” Walter said. “What did you have in mind?”

“Like I said, I’d like to set up a homeless shelter, or something like that, to help people get back on their feet,” Oliver said, becoming more animated as he talked. “I thought we could partner up with the Merlyn clinic and C.N.R.I. and make it some kind of full-service project. I wanted to have a more structured presentation for you, Malcolm, and Laurel before I said anything, but it’s something that’s been on my mind since even before I found out what happened to the workers at the steel mill. I just… I need to do _something_ to counter the darkness that I’ve lived with these past five years. I can’t just ignore the suffering of the innocent, and this would help them get a chance at a new life, maybe even help them get out of the Glades.” That last bit had been added for Merlyn’s benefit, since Oliver knew the man was of the opinion that the only ones who would stay in the Glades were those who gloried in the crime and corruption infesting the place, never mind that that crime and corruption was only so widespread because of his controlling the crime and corruption in the city. **_*3*_**

“It is certainly an ambitious undertaking, and one that has to be done carefully, I feel,” Walter finally said. “We can talk more about this once you return from wherever your business is taking you. Speaking of, can I assume from Miss Lance’s presence that she is accompanying you?”

“After what I said at dinner, she doesn’t think it’s a good idea for me to be alone,” Oliver replied. “Thea has made the same decision. But I thought I’d at least ask Mom if it’s alright if she takes a couple of days off school. She’s being rather stubborn about this, though, so she might force the issue no matter what.”

“I suppose there is no harm in Thea taking a couple of days off school, especially if it’s to help you deal with what you revealed,” Moira said after a moment. “But there’s something that concerns me, Oliver. More than once, you’ve referred to your father as ‘Robert’ instead of ‘Dad’. Why is that?”

Oliver grimaced. He hadn’t realized he had been doing that. But he could tell from the grim expressions on Walter and Moira’s faces and the curious expressions on both Merlyns’ faces that he wasn’t going to get out of this. He instinctively gripped Laurel’s hand, and she squeezed it lightly, letting him know she was here for him, no matter what. “I lied when I came back,” he said quietly. “I said Robert went down with the _Gambit_. He didn’t. He and Dave Hackett survived and were on the life raft with me in the beginning.” Shock flitted across every face in the room. “The morning after the storm abated, Dad started talking crazy, about how he had failed the city and that I could survive this and make it home, make it better, right his wrongs. Then he pulled out a gun and shot Hackett. He told me to ‘Survive’, and then he shot himself in the head. I buried him on the island.”

“That is a… startling revelation, Oliver,” Walter said softly, feeling horrified for his stepson having to witness that. “But that doesn’t explain why you call him Robert.”

“Because he tried to foist a responsibility on me that wasn’t mine,” Oliver said. “He told me to right his wrongs, make things right, but he didn’t tell me what the hell I was supposed to be making right. The only thing I’ve found is the issue with the steel mill workers. But I’m not wanting to do something for those people because he asked me to right his wrongs; I’m doing it because it’s the right thing to do. Too many of them already have died because of the inactions of the wealthy. I won’t sit by and watch another round of them die this winter.”

“Ollie, I’m ready,” Thea said as she entered the room, completely oblivious to what had been being discussed before she arrived. “Woah, the silence can practically be felt. What did I miss?”

“Nothing,” Oliver said, standing and smiling at his sister. “We should get on the road soon if we’re going to make it to Central City before morning.”

“What business do you have in Central City, Oliver?” Malcolm asked.

“Just some information I came across from one of the mercs I dealt with on the island,” Oliver lied smoothly. “I wanted to check it out. Not sure what I’ll do if it pans out. We should be back in time for the auction.”

“Ah, yes, about that, Oliver,” Walter said. “I think it best if you skip the auction; the Green Arrow is likely to become a topic of discussion there and we can’t have you voicing your opinion in such a public forum. Tonight’s indiscretion was contained and those present knew better than to judge you because of what you revealed; the same cannot be said for the large crowd that is sure to be there.”

Oliver was silent for a moment. It surprised him that Walter was the one who was putting so much stock on image rather than his mother, though he suppose living for five years under Merlyn’s thumb had mellowed his mother even further to his and his sister’s excesses. “If you’re that concerned about image, Walter, than perhaps you should consider renaming the Applied Sciences center,” he said finally. “If not, I’ll be at the auction.” He turned and headed for the door, effectively ending the discussion, with Laurel’s hand clasped in his own. Thea joined them in their departure.

**_*DC*_ **

Later, in the solitude of his own home, Malcolm Merlyn considered everything that had been revealed tonight, both at the dinner party and the discussion afterward when Oliver, Laurel, and Thea had returned. He had jumped to a conclusion tonight, he realized, without gaining all the facts. He could only guess that having spent so long unopposed, he had felt it necessary to put a name and face to the one who opposed him, but he realized now that it couldn’t be Oliver. Whoever the Green Arrow was, he had a full, working knowledge of the Undertaking and the people who were aiding Malcolm in making his dream a reality; more importantly, he had the backing of A.R.G.U.S., and Oliver didn’t carry himself like a government agent.

No, he had jumped to conclusions and begun making hasty plans, and for that, he scolded himself harshly. He couldn’t be doing that, not with the danger that the Green Arrow represented always lurking. He needed to be cold and calculating; while Laurel Lance represented a potential vulnerability for the Green Arrow, removing her too soon might see a confrontation coming his way before he was ready. He needed more information on the Green Arrow before he went into a physical confrontation with the man. What he had seen of the man hinted at training reminiscent of the League, and the fact that the League had (to his knowledge) not sent a representative to investigate was disconcerting, as it implied that they were aware of Green Arrow’s affiliation and goals.

That thought frightened Malcolm more than anything, that Ra’s al Ghul knew what Green Arrow’s goals were, since it would likewise mean that Ra’s was aware of Malcolm’s inactions or, even worse, his plans for the Glades. Perhaps he should back Oliver’s plans for a full-service shelter, as it would show Ra’s he was doing everything he could do get the innocent out of the Glades before he unleashed his final judgment on them.

Worse still, if the League was aware of Green Arrow’s affiliations, he couldn’t set the vigilante up as an agent of H.I.V.E. After all, what better way to get rid of the nuisance than turn the League against him with a well-worded accusation.

“Who _are_ you?” Malcolm snarled into the quiet of his home office, staring down at the image of Green Arrow swinging away from city hall that had been used to capture readers’ attention in the _Daily Star_. **_*4*_**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter.
> 
> Chapter Notes:
> 
> *1* I meant to put this in the last chapter, but yes, in this story, Oliver was raped onboard the Amazo during his imprisonment there. Left untreated with therapy and the like, my understanding is many of those who are sexually assaulted start feeling as though they deserve whatever they get. Combined with Oliver’s lack of self-worth thanks to that being beaten down by the likes of Waller and Felicity, and it’s a deadly combination that keeps him downtrodden.
> 
> *2* Oliver is definitely going to be struggling to deal with what he’s done moving forward once he kills Thawne, so expect there to be at least some angst. This Oliver is, after all, freer with his emotions.
> 
> *3* Stuff like this, helping the poor and disenfranchised publicly as Oliver Queen, is what I meant when I said Oliver will be liberal when it comes to politics. Not the extremist angle some liberals take these days. Sorry for the confusion.
> 
> *4* So, yeah, Merlyn’s backing off on his plan to send The Huntsman after Laurel. This isn’t how I expected this chapter to turn out. I had three ideas of how this would play out and this was an unknown fourth option. And I think Merlyn would take any evidence that Oliver couldn’t be the Green Arrow simply because he doesn’t want to believe his own godson is fighting against him. In 1x09, there’s a heavy implication Merlyn knew Oliver was The Hood, yet he was surprised when he pulled back Oliver’s hood in 1x22.


	19. The Hit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: A rather taboo topic comes up at the end of the chapter that may disturb some readers that deals with the depths of depravity that some people reach.

Oliver Queen rolled over in bed and glanced at the alarm clock on the bedside table. It was 1:00 p.m., and he had been asleep since roughly five or six a.m. It had taken a little longer than he had thought to get to Central City; he had become far too used to driving here on a bike, able to dodge in and out of traffic, or coming via one of Cisco’s breaches. Driving in the Camaro with Laurel and Thea had been entertaining, as the two kept up a lively commentary about the dinner party and how that had probably shaken the rich muckety-mucks for the first part of the trip. It was after this that Thea had asked them the question that strained things between the three.

_“What’s wrong with the Merlyns?” Thea asked from her spot in the backseat. Oliver and Laurel shared a look before Oliver returned his attention to the road. “See? There you go again. You shared a look like that when Ollie said the Merlyns were still at the mansion. What’s wrong with them? Is it to do with-with Ollie’s night job?”_

_“Yes, Thea,” Oliver said after a moment. “It has to do with my work as Green Arrow. I can’t tell you anything. But I can tell you Tommy knows nothing of what I’m talking about. Malcolm, on the other hand, is a snake, one both Laurel and I have to watch ourselves around.”_

_“Is that why you told them the stuff you did?” Laurel asked. “To throw Merlyn off the scent?” Oliver nodded tersely. “Probably for the best. Much as I’d love to nail that bastard to the wall, I know it can’t happen. Not yet.”_

_“What_ is _it that he’s done?” Thea persisted._

_“Thea, I would love to tell you what’s going on, but as much as I love you, you’re still a teenager, and that means you’re impulsive,” Oliver said, glancing in the rear-view mirror to meet his sister’s hazel eyes. “The last thing I need is for you to accidentally let something slip to Tommy about his father, and I think we both know you would.” Thea grimaced guiltily. “You’ll know what it is about Merlyn that Laurel and I know eventually, Speedy. Everyone will.”_

Oliver pulled himself into a sitting position in the hotel room he had booked for himself. Because of his nightmares, he hadn’t wanted either Thea or Laurel in the room with him and booked two rooms, a single and a double, the latter of which the women had shared, to their disappointment. He knew they would be looking for signs of trouble in him once they woke up, if they weren’t already awake. He grabbed his phone to check for any messages and found one at Laurel, saying that Thea was going to sleep a little longer and Laurel herself was going to go to Central City University, where her mother taught a course on ancient world mythology. The text had been sent not ten minutes ago, so Oliver got up and began getting dressed. He had somewhere he wanted to go, somewhere he _needed_ to go.

**_*DC*_ **

Laurel Lance entered her mother’s office at C.C.U. with a bit of nervousness, Sara’s letter to Oliver in her purse. She had her doubts that her father had told her mother about Sara’s return yet, probably hoping to wait until Sara was back in Starling permanently before he did. But her mother was running herself ragged on her search for Sara, and Laurel needed to at least try to give some kind of comfort to her mother. She hesitated in the doorway, seeing her mother hunched over her desk, grading papers. “My office hours are from two to four,” her mother said without looking up.

“I’m not one of your students, Mom,” Laurel said, and Dinah Drake Lance’s head shot up.

“Laurel,” she breathed out in amazement, standing and moving around her desk quicker than Laurel might have thought her mother capable of. She was pulling Laurel into a hug before the younger woman knew what was happening. “Oh, Laurel, I was so worried when I heard what happened to you on the news, but I didn’t know if I would be welcome in your life after leaving like you did.”

“It doesn’t matter how strained things are between us, you’re still my mom, and I’ll _always_ need you in my life,” Laurel whispered, hugging her mother back and closing her eyes, breathing in her mother’s distinctive scent. “And I know I helped push you away by running to the law like Dad did. But I’ve had a rude awakening that sometimes, the law doesn’t mean justice. And justice is what I want to see happen.”

Dinah pulled away, holding her daughter at arm’s length and examining her. “Well, you seem to be pushing through what’s happened to you,” she said softly.

“That’s partly thanks to Oliver,” Laurel said, and Dinah blinked, surprised. “We sat down and had a serious discussion after the incident with China White since he got injured defending me. We established that the biggest problem that we had was that we didn’t communicate with each other and weren’t honest about the issues we were having. We’re trying to see if things will work if we’re honest. He’s changed because of what happened to him after the _Gambit_ sank. He wants to help people, and even has an idea for a homeless shelter that he wants to work on with me, Walter Steele, and Malcolm Merlyn.”

“It sounds like he’s still the good man you thought he was,” Dinah said softly. “I hate to ask this, Laurel, but did Oliver say anything about what happened to Sara?”

“That’s why I’m here,” Laurel said softly. “Ollie had some things he needed to take care of here in Central City and I tagged along. Sara’s alive, Mom. She was in Starling City last week.” Dinah’s hand went to her mouth as she slowly sat down on the edge of her desk. Laurel opened her purse. “Oliver tried to convince her to come home, to let us know she was alive, but she left in the middle of the night, leaving this behind.” She withdrew the letter from Sara and handed it to Dinah, who read it silently, her eyes filling with tears.

“My poor baby,” Dinah finally whispered. “She’s out there, somewhere, hurting, but too afraid to come home.”

“Ollie thinks she will, eventually,” Laurel said softly. “He thinks she’s just nervous. She’s had a hard life the past five years. I only know some of it thanks to what Oliver’s told me that he knew about. I can’t imagine what else she’s been through to turn her into the woman who wrote that letter.”

“I hope Oliver’s right,” Dinah said softly. She looked up at her elder daughter. “I have to be here for my office hours, but maybe we could meet up this evening? Get dinner perhaps? I’d like to know more about what you’ve been doing in Starling City.”

“I’d like that,” Laurel said softly. “I’m staying at the Marriott with Oliver and Thea. You can probably catch me there anytime after five p.m.”

“I’ll see you then,” Dinah promised, and the two women shared a hug before Laurel left, leaving the letter from her sister with her mother, who needed the tangible evidence that her youngest was alive more so than her father did.

**_*DC*_ **

Oliver didn’t know why he was doing this to himself. Perhaps it was a case of masochism, or perhaps he just needed to see his friend one more time, even if the younger man never became his friend in the timeline that was sure to form once he went through with his dark intentions this evening. Whatever the reason, masochism or a need to see his friend one last time, Oliver had ensconced himself in CC Jitters with a consistent order of coffee, which he nursed, waiting for Barry Allen to make an appearance. Oliver was seated where he could see both entrances so that he wouldn’t miss the entrance of the young man that would one day be known as The Flash. What he didn’t expect was to see two people he recognized, and more importantly, see them _together_. Two women entered Jitters from the more lit entrance to the café, and it took a moment for Oliver to come to terms with what he was seeing.

The woman he recognized instantly was Dinah Drake, the woman that he had recruited to be the new Black Canary and succeed Laurel after the crushing experience of facing off with Earth-2’s Laurel Lance, aka the Black Siren, who had aligned with Prometheus and Talia al Ghul. The other woman he only vaguely recognized, and it took a moment for her identity to sink in since he had only seen her the once, in the final minutes before Palmer Technologies had ceased to exist as part of the Ninth Circle’s plots. This woman was Beatrice, the woman who had presumably assumed command of the Ninth Circle due to Emiko’s wavering loyalties and her siding with Oliver in that final confrontation. Beatrice had escaped that confrontation and Oliver had no idea what had happened to the Ninth Circle afterward but knew he had left Felicity and Mia in hiding to keep them safe from the Ninth Circle.

What the hell was Dinah doing with a member of the Ninth Circle? Had she been a traitor all along, working for Beatrice, who had clearly distrusted Emiko despite her rank at the time in the Ninth Circle? Was her name even Dinah Drake? As if from a distance, Oliver remembered the first outing he and Tommy had had with the Lance sisters at Berlanti Prep, which served every grade from elementary school to high school. Quentin had introduced himself to their parents and then introduced his wife as _Dinah Drake Lance_. How had he been so blind? A woman who just happened to have Laurel’s first name (which she hardly ever used to differentiate herself from her mother), who just happened to share her mother’s _maiden name_ , becoming the new Black Canary? He knew the Ninth Circle was skilled; they had fooled Cayden James, one of the most intelligent men in the world, into thinking that the Green Arrow had killed his son through their agent, Ricardo Diaz. Considering how eager Felicity and Curtis were to fill the role of Black Canary after the confrontation with Black Siren, they might not have dug too deeply into Dinah’s background.

Another thought occurred to Oliver. He _knew_ it wasn’t possible to become a police officer under a false name, as ‘Dinah’ had said she had to protect her family. But the record that Curtis had pulled up from C.C.P.D. had listed her name as Tina Boland. Oliver also thought of the dark future that had been wrought and realized that _Tina_ had done nothing to stop what happened, and he could only assume it had been at the order of the Ninth Circle. Perhaps the Ninth Circle had been behind the corporation that his children had been fighting against in that dark future, Galaxy something, maybe even been behind the Deathstroke gang that J.J. Diggle had been the leader of.

Oliver resisted the urge to move seats and listen in on the two women, instead focusing on what he could make out over the din of the coffee shop. It sounded like Beatrice was urging Tina to work undercover, saying it would prove to be a good experience. Oliver couldn’t help but feel sick as he realized the Ninth Circle must have been planning on embedding the woman into his life and preparing their chosen asset accordingly this early on. Which could only mean they were planning to get rid of Laurel and play on Oliver’s grief over her death by hiding Tina under the name Dinah Drake. He hadn’t realized how deep his half-sister’s hatred for their father ran. Perhaps he had been wrong that she was redeemable. He had been thinking of approaching her since his return to this time, but perhaps it was best not to invite the poisonous snake into his embrace. **_*1*_**

Beatrice and Tina left the coffee shop, allowing Oliver to relax slightly. It took another half-hour and a third cup of coffee, but eventually the two people he had been expecting showed up: Barry Allen and Iris West, who were laughing and joking about something from their college courses. Barry looked so carefree, despite the dark shadow of his father’s incarceration hanging over him, and Oliver grimaced as he realized there was a fifty-fifty chance that Eobard had not made any sort of recording revealing his role in Nora’s death yet in this timeline, but he couldn’t let The Flash and the Legends erase everything he had been working for. If it turned out Eobard hadn’t arranged for a confession to make its way to the police, he would find another way to free Henry Allen. He would coerce a confession from Eobard if he thought it would help, but Barry had told him that the District Attorney for Central City, Cecile Horton, had been a hard-ass who only mellowed once she got involved with Team Flash, so he doubted she would use a coerced confession to free Henry Allen.

Barry and Iris sat close to Oliver and began to discuss something a little more serious based on their expressions. “I’m just not sure I want to work at the precinct with Joe, Iris,” Barry was saying to his stepsister and eventual wife, and Oliver tried not to think too hard on that subject since it would do him little good to get involved in his friend’s love life when his own had ended up so twisted. “The main reason I want to work there is to help make sure nothing like what happened to my father happens again.”

“Barry…” Iris sighed. Oliver frowned; he had gotten the impression Iris always backed Barry up. But it appeared that hadn’t always been the case.

“I know, I know, you don’t believe me,” Barry said, bitterness tinging his voice. “No one does. But I know what I saw that night, Iris. My father did not kill my mother, and I don’t know if I could stomach working at the precinct that railroaded my father and didn’t even _look_ for other suspects. I might just try to get a job at S.T.A.R. Labs or Mercury Labs, help in developing new crime scene technology. That would probably do more for my father than drowning myself in cases. I hear enough from Joe to know C.S.I.’s are overworked, underpaid, and unappreciated. I don’t think I want to work in that kind of environment.”

Oliver was stunned; he had never realized this sort of bitterness existed inside of his friend, even with the glimpse he got when Rainbow Raider as Caitlin had called him ‘whammied’ Barry with his rage-inducing gaze. But he also knew already that his friend was destined for failure in being accepted at either S.T.A.R. Labs or Mercury Labs since he had ended up in the C.S.I. lab at the precinct where he worked with Joe West. Perhaps it was due to his own issues with Joe West, or perhaps because he still wanted a relationship with Barry, but Oliver leaned forward. “I don’t know about S.T.A.R. Labs or Mercury Labs, but Queen Consolidated is always looking for ambitious, sharp minds,” he said, drawing Iris and Barry’s attention.

Iris’ eyes widened as she recognized him. “Oliver Queen?” she said in disbelief. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, typical corporate shenanigans, seeing if I can poach any excellent young talent before Harrison Wells or Tina McGee get to them,” Oliver said with a smile. “I think wanting to develop new technology to help in crime scene investigation is not only an ambitious goal, but a vital one. I’d like you to consider taking a position under me in Applied Sciences at Queen Consolidated. I’m sorry, I just realized I butted into your conversation without an introduction, though the young lady has already provided an introduction for me. And the two of you are?”

“Iris West,” Iris said, before gesturing to Barry. “This is my best friend, Barry Allen.” Oliver leaned forward and shook each of their hands. “You’re really serious about asking Barry to come work at Queen Consolidated?”

“I am,” Oliver confirmed. “My father had an eye for talent, one of the few things I’m proud to have inherited from him. And I can tell simply from the way Mr. Allen here spoke that he would be driven to develop new crime scene technologies. I would rather have people working under me who are driven to develop technologies for the common good of mankind. Trust me,” he added grimly, “the Applied Sciences division is about to have a shake-up. Too many working under me are in it for their own egos. I’d rather have people like your friend working at Queen Consolidated.”

Barry was wide-eyed at the offer. “Uh, well, I don’t know what to say,” he said. “This is pretty sudden.”

“Say you’ll think about it,” Oliver replied with a shrug. “I don’t expect an answer now. I would understand if you would prefer somewhere in Central City to work. But if things don’t work out with S.T.A.R. and Mercury Labs, well, know you’ve got a guaranteed spot with me. I’ll fight the C.E.O. to approve your application if need be.”

“Why?” Barry asked. “You don’t even know me.”

“Like I said,” Oliver said quietly, “I have an eye for talent and I just know you’re going to be something special if given the chance to spread your wings.” Oliver took out one of the business cards he carried around with him at Walter’s request and handed it over to Barry. “Just think about it, Mr. Allen. You could help so many people by developing technologies that ensure the right people are put behind bars.” Oliver finished his coffee and stood. “You both have a good afternoon. I’m staying at the Marriott if you want to know more, Mr. Allen.”

Oliver strode out of Jitters, tossing the coffee cup in the garbage as he went. He had done what he could to make sure Barry had a bright future once he took care of Thawne; now all that was left to do was prepare for tonight. He had already decided acting as Green Arrow here would raise Merlyn’s suspicions all over again, so he would be making use of his disguise as the Man in Black, which he had retrieved from the Bunker after a quick stop there before leaving town with Laurel and Thea. He had also had to promise the two women he would give them a tour of his ‘night office’ when they returned to Starling.

**_*DC*_ **

Oliver adjusted the black face-mask he was wearing to disguise his features as he waited inside of the impostor’s home for Eobard Thawne to return home for the night. A little-known fact about A.R.G.U.S. was that they had implanted an override into every alarm system used in the continental United States, which allowed them to perform the necessary assassinations. The override was embedded into the coding the alarm companies made use of and would force it to register as a system error that corrected itself, ensuring the alarm company didn’t swing by to check things out. Waller would have questions, Oliver knew, and he had every intention of exploiting Lyla’s connection to Mar-Novu in that regard, even if it meant throwing her under the bus.

In truth, Oliver was a little bitter regarding Lyla, because she had _known_ the Crisis was coming for years and done nothing to prepare the heroes that she knew for it until Novu told her to. She was a mindless tool who obeyed her master’s call, whether that was Waller or Novu. So felt no guilt in causing her problems with Waller, especially since the Crisis would be returned to its original place. This time, Oliver would prepare the heroes that rose up for the Crisis and make sure they knew what was coming, Novu’s thoughts on the matter be damned.

Oliver heard the sound of the front door opening, and the beeps as Thawne disarmed the alarm. A few moments later, he heard the clinking of glass on glass and music starting up. He moved from where he had been waiting, drawing the silenced, A.R.G.U.S.-issue pistol before rounding the corner and facing off with Thawne, who’s expression showed his shock for once as he was faced with a masked gunman. “If you want something special from me, you’re welcome to whatever you wish,” Thawne said. “I have no care for my belongings.”

Oliver didn’t say anything, instead firing the pistol three times, the bullets punching their way through Thawne’s body and piercing his lungs and diaphragm. Thawne was thrown back by the force of the bullets striking him and landed on his back, blood pooling and mixing with the brandy from the shattered glass that had landed to his side. “W-W-What-?” Thawne coughed.

“ **It’s nothing personal, Eobard,** ” Oliver said, causing Thawne’s eyes to widen in horror and understanding. “ **Just making sure things cement the way that _I_ want them to.**”

“W-Who…?” Thawne gargled out as blood filled his lungs.

“ **You should be more worried about _where_ you’re going than who I am, Eobard,**” Oliver replied, raising his gun one more time. He wasn’t about to leave things to chance. He fired the pistol one last time, catching Thawne in the head, the back of which exploded outward, spattering the floor beneath it with chunks of skull and brain matter. Oliver left the house through the back door and ducked into the back alley between the houses where he had parked the Camaro. He got in, pulling his face-mask back as he started the car and pulled away. No one took notice of the Camaro driving away. Oliver let out a sigh. He had done as he had been asked. Eobard Thawne was dead, and his former allies in the future wouldn’t be able to erase his memories and restoring the timeline that once was since it now no longer existed.

**_*DC*_ **

Oliver returned to the Marriott and made it to his hotel room without incident. As he entered it, though, he once more found himself on the platform in the midst of space, Novu standing before him. “Did I miss something?” Oliver asked.

“No,” Novu replied. “You have done what needed to be done. Neither The Flash nor the Legends will realize what has happened in time to do anything. I have summoned you here because from this point forward, I can give no more aid. I am as affected by the timeline as anything else. This is where we part ways, Oliver Queen. You now have full control of your own destiny once more.” The platform and expanse of space faded, and Oliver found himself standing in the middle of the hotel room he had booked for himself. One thought continued to cycle through his mind. His destiny was his again; he was no longer beholden to Novu or anyone else. He could finally be the hero his city needed and focus solely on his city.

 _I won’t waste this chance,_ Oliver thought to himself. _I will make the most of this. ***2***_

**_*DC*_ **

Hadrian Wolcott smiled as he bit into the ample drumstick, cooked to perfection and covered in a savory honey barbecue sauce. He had expected the girl he had picked up in the bar to put up more of a fight when she realized what was happening. Instead she had all but surrendered after a brief attempt at fighting him failed when he had smacked her around a bit. After all, once she entered this building, she stopped being a person. She was just another slab of meat to be processed. For that was the dark nature of Hadrian Wolcott, the serial killer/hitman known to the F.B.I. and other law enforcement agencies as The Huntsman. He was a cannibal, independently wealthy, and he had a ‘processing facility’ in every major city.

As he ate, Wolcott turned his attention to the dossier on the victim-to-be that had brought him to this cesspit of a city. In all honestly, he wasn’t going to enjoy this one nearly as much as he normally would enjoy processing a curvy blonde. Felicity Smoak, age 23, an I.T. agent at Queen Consolidated, was the _wrong_ kind of curvy blonde. Wolcott preferred to go after those who were curvy due to athletic achievements and the like, not curvy because they spent time sitting in an office chair staring aimlessly at a computer screen. But a job was a job, and you never knew when the man who ruled Starling City’s underworld would decide he needed the services of The Huntsman again. Better to satisfy the customer, even if he himself wouldn’t be all that satisfied.

Smoak only went to three places frequently enough to _know_ that she was going to be there at a given time: Queen Consolidated, her home, and some kind of vacant office in the Glades district of Starling City. Queen Consolidated was too public, even with the underground parking garage. The vacant office appeared to be in the vicinity of where the Green Arrow emerged to do his hunting and Wolcott had no desire to get on Green Arrow’s radar by kidnapping a woman nearby. That left her apartment, in an unsecured building and easily accessed by anyone with a working knowledge of locks.

Tomorrow night, Felicity Smoak would come home and not be seen again. **_*3*_**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter. 
> 
> Chapter Notes:
> 
> *1* Okay, let’s see… when ‘Dinah’ was first introduced, she claimed she operated under a fake name as a police officer to protect her family, claiming her real name was Dinah Drake. The files of undercover officers are kept on a separate network in most cities, from my understanding, which only their superiors and Internal Affairs have access to. Curtis accessed the ‘public’ records (meaning those not on a dedicated server) and her name was listed as Tina Boland. The attempt in Season 6 to retcon this does not erase the fact. They slapped the name Dinah Drake on a nobody because they were too cowardly to ‘go back on their word’ and bring Earth-1 Laurel Lance back.
> 
> So, if ‘Dinah’ is in fact Tina, then she had to be working for someone to use a fake name on Oliver’s team. The Ninth Circle, and specifically the woman who succeeded Emiko as leader of said organization, is my choice of employer. Don’t like? Don’t read.
> 
> *2* No joke on this. Oliver is freed from his previous destiny of dying in the Crisis on Infinite Earths. From now on, he can chart his course how he wants.
> 
> *3* Writing The Huntsman is like writing Merlyn. I always feel the need for a shower afterwards. For those who hadn’t ‘met’ The Huntsman before now, well, now you know why I call him my most hateful creation. In my mind, there is nothing worse than someone who would hunt their fellow human beings as a source of food.
> 
> Before anyone asks, no, I’m not going to ‘show’ his ‘processing’ of Felicity or anyone else. I tried that once before and I freaked myself out at how dark it got. So, the most you’ll see is when he cuts Felicity’s throat or however he chooses to drain her blood. Assuming, of course, that she doesn’t find a way out of it or Oliver stops The Huntsman himself…


	20. Liberation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This chapter is mostly filler as far as I’m concerned, but sometimes that’s what’s needed. There are a few key things that happen in this chapter, though.

Oliver Queen had just finished a shower, one that he had taken to try and rid himself of the dirty feeling he had had ever since he had killed Thawne, and dressed in comfortable night clothes when there was a soft knock on the door of his room. Oliver opened it to find Laurel and Thea waiting on the other side. He stepped back, opening the door to allow his sister and girlfriend to enter. He and Laurel had had that discussion in the Camaro on the way to Central City and decided that since they knew so much about one another, it offered them the deep connection needed to properly be girlfriend and boyfriend. “I figured the two of you would show up,” he said quietly as he closed the door.

“Did you…” Laurel began, trailing off slightly.

Oliver nodded. “Eobard Thawne is dead,” Oliver confirmed. “I know that what I did was the right call, the _only_ call, but it doesn’t erase the fact that I acted as an assassin. It was _different_ from when I confronted Holder. I went after Holder for the sins he had committed against the people of Starling City. But Thawne… I killed him because of the people that were threatening to erase everything I had worked for, not for the crimes he had committed both in this time and in the future.” Oliver rubbed his hands together. “I feel as though there’s something dirty clinging to me and no matter how much I try, I can’t wash it off.” **_*1*_**

“Ollie, you have bettered so many people’s lives, saved my life and numerous others with everything that you’ve done,” Laurel said softly, brushing her hand through Oliver’s bristly hair. “You are a _hero_ , not an assassin. You do the things that no one else can or will, and you do it knowing you could be hunted by the very people you are fighting to keep safe. You are a _good man_ , not a bad one. I _love_ you, and you know I wouldn’t if you were this monster you seem to see yourself as.”

Oliver lowered his gaze, flushing slightly at the intensity of Laurel’s green gaze. He turned to look at Thea, his little Speedy, who smiled softly at him. “You’re my big brother, Ollie,” Thea said quietly. “I love you.”

Oliver leaned back on the couch. “Novu was waiting for me when I returned,” he said. “He informed me that the timeline has been altered, and more importantly, that my destiny is my own again. He will no longer call on me to do things, as he is obliged to the timeline as much as anyone else. It’s unusual, knowing that after so long serving him, I’m finally free to chart my own course again. All I know is, I want to be the man that brings Starling back from the pit of despair.”

“You will, Oliver,” Laurel said softly. “You’ll beat him. You’ll beat all of them.”

**_*DC*_ **

Felicity Smoak closed her eyes before opening them again, hoping that what she thought she had seen upon waking up was just some nightmare. But no, it was very real. She was hanging upside down, a metal tub below her, and standing before her was the man she had met for drinks in a moment of weakness (and because she did find cultured accents like the Brits had hot!), a wicked-looking curved knife in his hand. “W-What is this? W-Where am I?” Felicity managed to get out, shivering as she was from the frigid air in the room that she was hanging upside down in. She tried very hard not to think of why the room was refrigerated. “Y-You should let me go! Y-You don’t know w-who my f-f-friends are!”

“And nor do I care, Miss Smoak,” the man, Hadrian something, said. “I was hired to do a job, and I always finish a contract, even the ones I find… _distasteful_.” Felicity had a feeling that this was not a metaphor when the man flashed her a grin and she took note of the sharpened teeth, something he hadn’t had last night and all she could think of was he probably had something he used to hide the deformities in his teeth. “You are, for me, the wrong kind of curvy blonde. But a contract is a contract. You should have left well enough alone. My client wants you processed like I do all my other victims, to make sure no one thinks to follow in your footsteps.” The man walked forward, stopping beside the metal bucket and Felicity’s hanging form. He stooped down and gripped her hair, pulling her head back to expose her throat. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have no desire to draw this out.”

“W-Wait, please I can- _urkh_!” Whatever Felicity had intended to say was lost to the four winds as her captor slashed his curved blade across her throat, slicing it open and pulling her head back further, allowing the severed artery to bleed out into the tub below her convulsing body.

The last remaining conscious thought of Felicity Smoak was _Oliver. ***2***_

**_*DC*_ **

Oliver drummed his fingers on the steering wheel as he drove the Camaro out of Central City, his thoughts clear of lingering doubts he had had about killing Eobard Thawne. The future was terrifying to him now because aside from Merlyn’s Undertaking and Slade’s systematic dismantling of everything Oliver held dear, there was no guarantee that _anything_ would play out the way that he remembered. For all he knew, bringing Malcolm to justice at Christmas would see a whole new threat leveled against his city to take the place of the Undertaking, and he would have no warning since it had never happened before. But there was also something exciting about not knowing what the future would bring. The future was theirs to mold as they saw fit. All his life in the previous timeline, Oliver’s path had been molded by others. By his father’s dying wish, by Slade and Talia’s training, by Diggle and Felicity’s judgmental attitudes, by Slade’s vendetta, by Ra’s’ interest in him, by H.I.V.E.’s control over the city, by Adrian’s vendetta… the list went on and on.

Oliver had spent yesterday at a meet-and-greet with potential job seekers in the area of computers and applied sciences from Central City University, giving himself a cover for being in Central City that would click with what he had told Barry and Iris. He wished he could stick around to find out whether Barry’s father would be released from prison because of Wells’ will, but he couldn’t leave Starling City without its guardian archer for long, especially not with the ever-wrathful eye of Ra’s al Ghul fixed upon his city. He _had_ managed to potentially poach Cisco Ramon, who was looking for work and had no actual degrees to his name, from either Mercury or S.T.A.R. Labs. Oliver hoped his pitch to Cisco had been enough to convince the man who had been _the_ person to turn to for suit upgrades to join Queen Consolidated.

He had also met with a few people from S.T.A.R. Labs, mostly to offer his condolences for the death of Harrison Wells and gauge the atmosphere there. Suffice to say, most of them were hostile towards Oliver, believing he was trying to poach them, but he had hopes that once Hartley Rathaway was confirmed as the head researcher at S.T.A.R. Labs some of them would be intrigued by the opportunity to work elsewhere.

Of course, he needed to make room for the people in question, and that meant doing some pruning in the Applied Sciences division of Queen Consolidated. He had been up late last night reading up on all the current research projects, and half of them were vanity projects that were solely being done for the purpose of the project manager’s own self-gratification. Those projects would find themselves terminated. Queen Consolidated would not feed the egos of puffed-up popinjays like Douglas Miller, who only had one project that couldn’t be misused.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Laurel asked from the passenger’s seat.

“Just thinking about what lies ahead of us,” Oliver said. “The future was always so clear to me while I worked for Novu. Now, it’s like a dark road in the middle of the night, where you can barely see what’s in front of you. It frightens and exhilarates me.”

“Whatever it is that comes our way, we’ll face it, together,” Laurel said, reaching over and brushing her hand across Oliver’s right cheek. Oliver smiled softly at her before returning his gaze to the road and, in essence, the future.

**_*DC*_ **

Barry Allen didn’t know how he had ended up here since he had no connection to the man, but yet there was no denying the summons he had received to appear at the offices of Weatherby & Stone to attend the will reading of Dr. Harrison Wells, founder of S.T.A.R. Labs and one of Barry’s personal heroes. So here he was, dressed in the only suit he owned and feeling remarkably out-of-place since the only other attendees were a dark-haired man in glasses in a suit that was definitely grades above the one that Barry wore and a woman in a black dress with brown hair and eyes. Both seemed as surprised to see Barry, an unknown to them, present as he was to be here.

“Welcome,” said the lawyer at the head of the table. “My name is Greg Turk, and I’m an attorney here at Weatherby & Stone. The three of you were the only listed beneficiaries to the will of Harrison Wells. Now, just to be sure everyone’s here who should be here to satisfy protocol: Hartley Rathaway.” The man in glasses raised a hand. “Caitlin Snow.” The woman acknowledged her name with a nod. “And Barry Allen.”

“Here,” Barry said quietly.

“Excellent,” Turk replied. “Now we can get started.” The next couple of minutes were spent going over the opening parts of the will and establishing bequeaths to public foundations from Wells’ considerable fortune. Finally, they reached the personal bequeaths. “To Hartley Rathaway, I leave the deed and ownership of S.T.A.R. Labs, for I know he will be able to see my dream become a reality.” Turk handed over an envelope to Rathaway, who looked rather humbled by the bequeath, at least until a smirk came into being on his face. “To Caitlin Snow, I leave a grant that will refill every year to conduct her research without worries of finance until 2020.” The paperwork detailing the grant was provided to Caitlin, who took it with a light sniff of grief, the only sign of emotion she had shown in the entire meeting. “Finally, to Barry Allen, I leave the rest of my fortune, a letter, and a thumb drive containing a video of some import to his future. I suggest that he read the letter first, before watching the thumb drive.”

Barry was stunned by what he had been left by one of his personal heroes, a man he had never personally met but always admired. How did he merit such a bequeath from this man? Both Snow and Rathaway were likewise stunned and giving him curious looks, wondering the very same thing he was, no doubt. Barry accepted the information on his new bank account as well as the letter and thumb drive mentioned.

“Thank you all for coming,” Turk said, and dismissed them without a second glance. Barry left the room, ignoring the attempts by Rathaway to get his attention. His sole focus was on returning to his apartment and finding out exactly why he had ended up a beneficiary of Harrison Wells’ last will and testament when they had never before met. In the parking lot, Iris West was waiting in Joe’s car, having driven him here.

“So, what exactly did you get?” Iris asked curiously.

“The remainder of his fortune, this letter, and a thumb drive containing what he called a video of some import to my future,” Barry said quietly. “I don’t understand it at all, Iris. I’ve never even met the man. Why would he leave me the bulk of his fortune?”

“Maybe he tells you in that letter,” Iris suggested. “I’ll drive, Bar. You find out why Harrison Wells left what he did for you.” Barry nodded and opened the letter, pulling it out.

_Barry Allen,_

_I’ve thought long and hard about what I would say here. How does one address a person who’s life they ruined but then followed along like a proud parent? It’s ironic, really, how I came to see you as a son after what I did to you._

_No doubt you are confused about why I listed you as the primary beneficiary in my will. You will also no doubt be hurt when I tell you the reason why._

_I am not going to apologize for what I did, Mr. Allen. I did what I did for my own reasons. But I recognize that I destroyed your life, and this letter along with the video on the thumb drive is my way of paying restitution to you._

_Thirteen years ago, I was the one who broke into your house and murdered your mother, framing your father for my crime._

Barry felt as though he had forgotten how to breathe. The letter drifted to his lap and he pulled at the tie around his neck, loosening it. He remembered that night every night in his dreams. Ignoring Iris’ confused look, Barry read on, fury building in his mind.

_Again, I do not apologize for this fact. At the time, my reasons were perfectly understandable, in my own mind. I used an experimental technology meant to disorient and confuse people, a military contract of mine, to simulate the lightning you and your father thought you saw that night, knowing that it would never be believed. I have provided the schematics for this project with this letter and they can be verified to the satisfaction of the courts by either Hartley Rathaway, the new owner of S.T.A.R. Labs, or Dr. Tina McGee, the owner and C.E.O. of Mercury Labs._

_After your father was tried and convicted, I kept a close eye on you. I don’t know why I felt it necessary, but I did. I have watched you all these years, Barry. I have watched as you grew into a kind young man, despite the hardship that I foisted upon you to grow up as the son of a known murderer. I have watched your battle against bitterness towards the police department. I have watched your triumphs at science fairs all these years with a sort of fatherly pride and felt for you when you felt you had failed._

_Because of what I did all those years ago, you will never be_ truly _happy, Barry Allen. But perhaps you can do some good in the world by being independently wealthy. Your life is your own now. I knew of your plans to approach S.T.A.R. Labs and Mercury Labs for work and I had already set in motion an insurance policy that would keep you from working at either location, forcing you to become a C.S.I. Because as much as I care for you, Barry, I also have what some would perceive as an irrational hatred for you and everything you stand for, and forcing you into a job that you would secretly hate with a passion, where your brilliance would be squandered, was the perfect vengeance in my eyes to sate my hatred of you._

_I know you are confused as to how I could both care for you and hate you so passionately. It is a complicated reality, Barry Allen, in which we live._

_The thumb drive I have provided in my will contains my full confession as to the events of the night of March 18, 2000. It will provide all the details necessary to see your father freed from prison. While Cecile Horton is a hard-ass in the realm of justice, she is also fair-minded and will not seek to brush this under the rug for the sake of appearances, which means you will not have to pursue this to higher courts._

_Harrison Wells ***3***_

Barry felt something drop onto the back of his hand and realized he was crying.

“Bar?” Iris asked softly, concerned.

“Take us to the precinct, Iris,” Barry said hoarsely. “We need to talk to your dad and Captain Singh. And the D.A.” Iris altered course without questioning this, knowing that Barry didn’t go to the precinct willingly because of his history with them. All the way there, she questioned herself silently what could bring Barry to do so, and the only thing that came to mind was the murder of his mother and his continual declaration of his father’s innocence.

When Joe West and David Singh read the letter that Harrison Wells had left Barry, they were shocked. When they saw the confession video which confirmed every single detail of the murder of Nora Allen, they were smart enough to realize the city was about to be hit with one hell of a shitstorm and that Henry Allen would have every right to sue the city for false imprisonment. Joe felt a little guilty for every time he had called Barry crazy, and even guiltier when he thought of the innocent man serving life in prison.

The District Attorney was summoned and before the day was out, the ball had started rolling to free Henry Allen after thirteen years of false imprisonment.

**_*DC*_ **

Oliver’s lips twitched as he felt more than saw his sister nearly bouncing as he, Thea, and Laurel stood in the elevator of the A.R.G.U.S. operations center that he used as his base of operations, waiting for the elevator to descend. Laurel was a bit calmer, but no less excited to see the nerve center of Oliver’s fight against criminality and corruption. As the doors opened, Oliver was only slightly surprised to see Amanda Waller and Lyla Michaels waiting for him. No doubt they had been watching Central City for his departure and come here immediately afterward. Waller gave the female duo with Oliver a cool glance before turning her attention to Oliver himself. “It appears we have much to discuss, Oliver.”

“I suspect you think so, Amanda,” Oliver replied. “But in truth we have very little to discuss. Who I bring into my world in this endeavor is my business. As to what happened in Central City? I was following orders from someone more powerful than you. If you want to know more about Mar-Novu, ask your right-hand woman. She’s his little lapdog.”

Waller stiffened at the name, stiffening even further at the mention of Lyla being involved with this being. She turned to her ‘right-hand woman’ and said, “We will be discussing this in great detail, Agent Michaels. I do not appreciate those with divided loyalties.”

“Yes, Director,” Lyla said softly, giving Oliver a curious glance. How had he known about her involvement with Novu and why had he seemed particularly bitter about it? A question she would have to ask him herself once she got through dealing with the quandary that he had put her in with Waller.

“So, what was it Novu told you, Mr. Queen?” Waller asked. “Why did you kill Harrison Wells?”

“Because according to Novu, a group of self-righteous time travelers were about to enact a plan that would see everything I have been and will be working towards destroyed,” Oliver replied. “The only way to stop them was to completely erase the timeline they inhabited. Harrison Wells, or the man who claimed to be Harrison Wells, was integral to that timeline. In truth, he was a time traveler from the 2100s who had assumed the identity of Wells after becoming trapped here.”

“Yes, that sounds like Novu’s handiwork,” Waller said, then smirked at Oliver’s raised eyebrows. “Yes, Oliver, I know Novu, as well. Why do you think I have taken such an interest in your work? Why do you think I take an interest in people like China White, Deadshot, and others? I know what’s coming as well as you and Agent Michaels seem to know. I assume that particular event has changed.” **_*4*_**

“If the timeline had remained the same, it would have happened in 2019 due to the actions of the same group of time travelers,” Oliver replied evenly. “Now that the timeline has been altered, it will no longer happen until 2024. We have twelve years to prepare. I intend to make sure those who can fight in the light of day are ready for that battle, Director.”

“And I will handle those who fight in the shadows,” Waller replied. “Good day, Mr. Queen. Agent Michaels? It appears we have much to discuss.” Lyla nodded and accompanied the Director of A.R.G.U.S. out of the operations center.

Oliver turned to Thea and Laurel, who were looking curious. “I know that you have a lot of questions about what that was all about, but I can’t tell you without risking a whole lot more than your lives,” Oliver said. “Just know that the delay I mentioned is a _very_ good thing.”

“I trust you, Ollie,” Laurel re-iterated. Thea nodded beside her. “Now, why don’t you give us a tour of your headquarters here.”

Oliver smiled softly and turned to do just that.

**_*DC*_ **

Barry was smiling widely, tears prickling at the corners of his eyes as he watched his father walk out of the gates of Iron Heights prison with his meager belongings. Barry had borrowed Joe’s car at the man’s insistence and now moved forward, embracing his father for the first time in over a decade. Henry Allen returned the hug with fervor, closing his eyes letting tears stream down his cheeks as he held his son without guards standing over him for the first time in over a decade.

He knew the basics: Harrison Wells had been the one in his house that night, using an experimental technology designed for a military contract to disorient and confuse enemies to disrupt his and Barry’s senses and make them think they were seeing a lightning storm in their house that night. That Wells had apparently been watching his son all these years made Henry sick to his stomach, and he half-wished Wells were still alive so that he could break the Hippocratic oath just once in his life and express his anger at the man’s actions.

“It’s good to see you out of there, Dad,” Barry said quietly, pulling away from his father.

“I’m just glad you’re okay, Barry,” Henry said. “It’s gonna take me some time to adjust to being free again, and I’m not sure if I can handle living in the city for a long period of time. Especially not around people who believed the worst of me.”

“I get that,” Barry said. “Actually, there might be another option. I got a job offer in Starling City. I was thinking about taking it. Why don’t you come with me? You can study up on all the new advances in medicine and maybe take up helping people that way again.”

“Maybe,” Henry said. “I hear things in there,” he gestured back at Iron Heights, “that indicate things aren’t so good in Starling City. You sure you want to move there?”

“I do,” Barry said as they got in Joe’s car. “Wells, for whatever reason, left me the bulk of his fortune. I can afford a good place for the both of us to live until you’re on your feet. Also, the job offer I got was directly from the Head of Applied Sciences at Queen Consolidated, Oliver Queen. Whereas apparently Wells had initiated an insurance policy of some kind that would force me to take a job as a C.S.I. I want to help design technologies that help make sure the right people get put in prison, and I can do that at Queen Consolidated. I don’t want to be an overworked, underpaid, and unappreciated C.S.I. when I can do something to make sure what happened to you never happens again.”

Henry felt his heart swell with pride, and he put a hand on his son’s shoulder. “I’m so proud of the man you’ve become, slugger,” Henry said quietly. “Let’s table talk of this for the time being. Right now, I’d like to have a first meal as a free man.”

“Sounds good to me,” Barry said with a smile and started the car.

****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter.
> 
> Chapter Notes:
> 
> *1* Some people wondered why Oliver killed Holder when he could’ve just let Deadshot do it. Deadshot was paid to get rid of Holder because he was a threat to Warren Patel acquiring Unidac Industries. Oliver wanted Holder to pay because he was a clear and present danger to the people of Starling City. He wouldn’t have felt right about letting Deadshot take Holder’s life for the reasons he was being paid to do it.
> 
> *2* And there is Felicity’s final ignominious scene. For those wondering, she was always going to die in this story, it was just a matter of when. I didn’t see the point in drawing it out. For those wondering, yes, Oliver is going to discover some of her plans re: Laurel, but that doesn’t mean he’s not going to look into The Huntsman even though the man will already be gone from Starling.
> 
> *3* I hope Wellsobard’s letter sounded right. Since this is pre-Flash, he couldn’t say, “Hahaha, my name is Eobard Thawne and I killed your mother because I’m a whiny fanboy who hates you”, I figured what I put there was fitting of someone who has both come to care for Barry but also still despises the man that he will become.
> 
> *4* I seriously doubt Novu worked with just Lyla. I attribute the lack of legal action against Team Arrow to be because of Waller using her authority as Director of A.R.G.U.S. to excuse them. Lyla wasn’t nearly as powerful an A.R.G.U.S. director, IMO, and that showed in how she kept getting outmaneuvered by other people. So, IMO Novu saving her life was hedging his bets in case Waller was ever removed from her position or, as it turned out, killed.


	21. Queen's Gambit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So, I am guessing that while some people might be surprised at a new chapter on this story after my rather effusive commentary in the afterword I had up, others are rolling their eyes and saying, “I knew it. He can’t stay away.” Which is true. But when I decide to not do something, I tend to go full throttle. It’s a personality quirk.
> 
> At the end of the day, I am writing Oliver/Laurel because I enjoy the pairing and the fact is that most Oliver/Laurel stuff is the same shipper-driven stuff that one can expect from shippers. I want something different, and I’m one of the only ones willing and able to write Lauriver in this way. I write plot first, romance third (or below), and I’m never going to change from that. People who like that will continue to read my work, while people who want Oliver and Laurel having a date or some other romantic thing in every chapter can go read the works of someone like The Pootamis on FFN. I won’t change who I am and what I write for anyone, and I’m not going to shy away from writing what I want because people in the Oliver/Laurel community buy into the ‘Oliver is a monster’ crap. I can’t fight that mentality by shying away.
> 
> So, I am sorry for letting that get to me, and I hope everyone enjoys the new chapter.

Oliver Queen knocked on Walter’s door after waving off the protesting executive assistant. “Got a minute?” he asked Walter, ignoring the woman telling him he needed to make an appointment. Walter looked to be both amused and perturbed at the way Olive was ignoring protocol and waved him in. Oliver entered the office while Walter’s E.A. returned to her desk. Oliver took a seat across from Walter, who gazed over the top of his conjoined hands to stare at his stepson.

“So, what is it that brings you by with such urgency that you chose to ignore the proper procedure?” Walter asked.

“There’s a matter we need to discuss regarding Applied Sciences,” Oliver replied. “And at the end of the day, the name on the building is _Queen_ Consolidated, not Queen-Steele.” Walter flinched back as if struck. “I don’t like playing that card, Walter,” Oliver added softly, “but there are things that are happening inside this company, my _family’s_ company, that make me uneasy and I am not going to just sit idly by. More and more, I’m getting an understanding of what it was my father meant when he asked me to _right his wrongs_. That doing so is the right thing to do makes it all the easier to fulfill his dying wish.”

Walter observed his stepson for a moment. He saw Robert Queen as his best friend, even though in Robert’s mind that title had belonged solely to Malcolm Merlyn, and so he was intrigued by what Oliver meant. Miss Smoak had not turned up for work today, but Walter assumed she was taking a sick day and had forgotten to call in. If Oliver had found out something that Miss Smoak had yet to find, it would be helpful. “Exactly what are you referring to, Oliver?” Walter asked.

“A few things,” Oliver replied. “For one, over half of the projects being developed under our Applied Sciences banner are vanity projects for the scientists involved and have nothing to do with making a profit for this company. The only ones that have the possibility of doing so are our military contracts, and while lucrative, those alone can’t sustain the viability of Applied Sciences for long. Doug Miller alone is running no less than three projects with Queen Consolidated funds and housing, and only one of those is viable but receives only minute attention from Miller. That is just the tip of the iceberg on the Applied Sciences front.” Oliver was silent for a moment. “You might have noticed Felicity Smoak hasn’t come to you with anything. I intercepted her and told her to report to me for the same reason I came in here without an appointment. At the end of the day, while I may not be the C.E.O., this _is_ my company and the Queen family will be the ones to take the hit if something untoward occurs, not you.”

“Did she find something?” Walter asked.

“A withdrawal of 2.6 million dollars from one of our Vancouver subsidiaries,” Oliver replied. “It went to an LLC called Tempest, which seems to have produced no viable products. Felicity managed to track down an address connected to Tempest. I thought you might want to come along when I checked it out.”

“I would,” Walter said agreeably as a knock came at the door. A courier entered with a package and a clipboard.

“Walter Steele?” the courier asked.

“That’s me,” Walter said, standing.

The courier walked over and set the package on the table. Oliver, who’s senses had been sharpened over the past years, wrinkled his nose slightly. There was a faint odor coming from the box, and he felt his stomach lurch as he recognized the smell from when he had buried Robert on the island. “You have a package,” the courier said, unaware that the contents of the package had the odor of death. Only someone with the heightened senses Oliver had would have noticed such a thing. Walter, likewise, noticed nothing and signed for the package. Oliver grabbed the man before he could leave.

“Who sent this package?” Oliver asked.

“Some guy. British. He paid be a hundred dollars on top of delivery fees to make this a priority delivery,” the courier said, shrugging off Oliver’s grip. “Can I go now?”

“Not until we open the package and find out just what’s inside,” Oliver replied. “Neither of you can smell it, but there’s a faint odor coming from that package and I suspect we’re going to need the police to come soon, and they’ll want to question _you_ about the man who gave you the package.” He narrowed his eyes at the courier as he emphasized the word ‘you’. The courier looked uncomfortable but nodded. Walter opened the package as Oliver circled the desk, and then reared back, stumbling over to the side of his desk and vomiting, giving Oliver a clear line-of-sight to the package. His stomach lurched and it took all of his power not to cry out in horror at the sight that greeted him.

Felicity Smoak’s severed head lay in the box, glasses perched on her nose and one of a smaller breed of apple lodged firmly in her mouth. His stomach roiling, Oliver picked up the single card that was sitting atop Felicity’s hair and read the words printed on it. **_*1*_**

**Stop digging or the next one on the menu is your delicious little stepdaughter.**

Oliver numbly dropped the card, which floated down to the ground. He pulled out his phone and dialed the police. “This is Oliver Queen calling from Queen Consolidated,” he said. “We’ve just received a package with one of our employee’s heads in it. We need the police here right now. A threat has also been issued towards my sister.” Walter, who had finished vomiting, spotted the card on the ground and picked it up, reading it quickly and paling.

Within half an hour, uniformed officers were questioning the courier about the circumstances surrounding the delivery while Detectives Lance and Hilton pulled Oliver and Walter aside. “So, what do you think the message meant about stop digging?” Quentin asked roughly, eyeing Oliver more than Walter, though it was the latter who was the recipient of the package and the one who answered the detective’s question.

“I tasked Miss Smoak with discovering anything that might have led to Oliver and Thomas Merlyn being kidnapped some weeks back,” Walter replied. “I only just learned today from Oliver that he had redirected her to report to him on anything she discovered.”

“And why did you do that?” Quentin asked, focusing the entirety of his attention on Oliver now.

“As I told Walter, at the end of the day, anything illegal connected to Queen Consolidated will fall down on my family’s shoulders,” Oliver replied. “I wanted to be the first to know so I could prepare my family for the fallout.”

“Did Miss Smoak find anything before she was killed?” Hilton asked.

“Yes, she did,” Oliver said. “She found out about a 2.6 million withdrawal from one of our Vancouver subsidiaries that went to a small LLC called Tempest. She managed to track down an address before I left for Central City on my recent trip there.”

“And why exactly were you in Central City?” Hilton asked.

“I decided I wanted to see if I could recruit any scientific talent before Harrison Wells or Christina McGee could from C.C.U.,” Oliver replied. “I also may have made some low-level offers to employees from S.T.A.R. Labs while offering my condolences for the recent murder of Dr. Wells. I don’t know if anything will come of it, but I thought I’d make the offers.”

“You didn’t tell me that you did that, Oliver,” Walter said, surprised.

“I was going to tell you once we finished talking about the things that I’ve discovered about things here at Queen Consolidated,” Oliver replied. Walter nodded in reply.

“Did Miss Smoak uncover anything else?” Hilton asked, bringing the topic back to the matter at hand now that he was satisfied that Oliver’s trip to Central City had nothing to do with what was happening with Queen Consolidated and the mystery surrounding the murder of a minor employee at the firm; a minor employee who had been working under orders from the C.E.O. and the heir apparent to the family empire. Who was Felicity Smoak that she had engendered such trust?

“An address connected to Tempest,” Oliver replied. “Walter and I were actually planning to go investigate it when the package was delivered.”

“We’ll take that address,” Quentin said quickly.

Oliver smiled thinly. “No offense, Detective, but this address is connected to why Tommy and I were kidnapped and whatever my father was up to that was the catalyst for that,” he said. “I’m _going_ to see the contents of this address for myself. I _need_ to. But you are welcome to come along. In fact, I insist upon it.” Oliver had asked Felicity for any information he could give to Walter upon his return from Central City and she had told him about the building connected to Tempest that she had sent Walter to find. She had never been told by Walter what was inside it so whatever they were going to find would be a complete surprise.

Hilton intervened before his partner could dig himself a hole with one of the richest families in the city. “We can do that,” Hilton said, giving Quentin a firm look. Quentin scowled, but nodded in assent.

“No time like the present, gentlemen,” Walter said. “After all, I won’t be able to use my office while your men are examining everything, and I have no meetings for the rest of the day. One of the reasons I didn’t object too strongly to you just barging in,” he added dryly, giving Oliver a look. Oliver gave a shrug while Quentin rolled his eyes. That sounded like the punk, alright.

**_*DC*_ **

The town car containing Oliver and Walter was trailed by the police sedan driven by Quentin and Hilton as it rolled into an empty lot outside of a warehouse on the edges of Starling City. Oliver and Walter exited the car, Walter’s driver and bodyguard examining their surroundings for any sign of threat. Quentin and Hilton exited their own car and the five men made their way to the only visible door into the warehouse, which had a code-lock keypad next to it. “Great,” Quentin grumbled. “We came all this way and we got no idea what the passcode is.”

“Don’t give up just yet, Detective,” Oliver replied. Quentin gave him a quirked eyebrow. “We know that this warehouse was purchased by Tempest, presumably with the funds that were invested in the LLC by Queen Consolidated almost five years ago. At that time, my mother was still acting-C.E.O. and if there’s one thing I know about my mother, it’s that she buries family secrets as far as she can. If this building is connected to what happened to the _Queen’s Gambit_ , well, there are only two names that she would associate with it. Mine and my father’s.”

“And Sara’s,” Quentin snapped back.

“My mother didn’t appreciate Sara’s rambunctious nature,” Oliver returned. “She much preferred Laurel.” Quentin grumbled discontentedly but subsided as Oliver input first his name, then his father’s into the keypad. The passcode turned out to be ‘Robert’, and the five men entered the warehouse, the detectives and bodyguard moving forward first in order to sweep the inside. Oliver and Walter followed behind, and it was Oliver who found the light switches. He flipped them upwards, and lights began to flicker on. But it was the sight of what lay on the floor of the warehouse that sent both Quentin and Oliver to their knees while Walter gripped the railing as he swayed violently.

Laid out on the floor of the warehouse was the remnants of the _Queen’s Gambit_ , and in the side of it’s hull was a hole, the metal surrounding it bent and twisted by heat and jutting outward, clear signs of an explosion from within being the principle reason for the _Gambit_ sinking to the depths.

“Oh, my God,” Quentin managed to get out, and it was a testament to the impact of the situation that no one disagreed with him. Laid out before them was all the proof needed to reveal that the sinking of the _Gambit_ had been no accident and it opened up a whole new can of worms surrounding Felicity Smoak’s murder and what Robert Queen had been connected to that had earned this fate for him, a fate that his son and Sara Lance had presumably shared. Quentin had to act as if his daughter was dead still, even though he knew she was alive, but afraid to come home. Knowing that his daughter had been the unwitting victim of a plot to murder Robert Queen and make it look like an act of nature was enough to raise a father’s ire. “What the hell was your old man involved in, Queen?”

“I don’t know,” Oliver lied softly, hating himself for it but knowing he could provide nothing for the man. But perhaps now Quentin Lance would be open to aid from the Green Arrow, assuming this case wasn’t taken out of his hands by the F.B.I., which considering the impact this would have on Starling City was not all that far-fetched an idea. Oliver just hoped that it was someone _other_ than Samandra Watson who ended up taking point should the F.B.I. be brought in.

All Oliver knew was that he had just triggered a new ripple effect in the ever-growing pond of changes that were coming about as a result of his actions, and he didn’t know where these changes would lead. _Facing the unknown with my grit and my bow, indeed,_ he thought grimly as he slowly stood, keeping a firm grip on the railing as he stared down at the _Queen’s Gambit_.

“You realize we’re going to have to question Mrs. Queen about this, right, gentlemen?” Hilton asked hoarsely, having been just as shocked as Quentin since he had been a part of Sara and Laurel’s lives since they were adolescents and Quentin was promoted into the Major Case Unit.

“Yes, I-I quite understand the need, detective,” Walter said. “But I think the first order of business should be securing this warehouse and it’s contents.”

“This is way above our paygrade,” Quentin said. “We’re going to need to call in the Feds.” It was obvious this wasn’t something Quentin wanted to do, but he knew he would have to recuse himself from this investigation anyways considering his deep, personal connection. “Just don’t give Moira a chance to flee.”

“We won’t say anything, Detective,” Oliver said. “You have our word.” Walter looked uncomfortable but nodded in agreement when Quentin and Hilton looked at him questioningly.

**_*DC*_ **

Oliver had wrestled with what he should do despite his promise to Detective Lance. There was no doubt his mother was the one behind the retrieval of the _Queen’s Gambit_ and it’s housing in Starling City. But she was also his _mother_ , and this was going to destroy their family in so many ways. Oliver decided the best way to avoid giving his mother a heads-up was to go to the Bunker and begin going over Felicity’s files since he no longer had her to give him a report about things that she had found. He would also need to contact Waller and bring Henry Fyff back into play since Felicity was dead.

Felicity was dead. The words seemed to ring in his ears, reverberate in his skull. Felicity, a woman he had loved and been married to, a woman whom he had had a daughter with, was dead. If there was even the smallest chance his daughter with her would’ve still been born despite his current relationship with Laurel, it was gone now that Felicity had been murdered. He would need to use Fyff to piggyback on the investigation, which would be taken over by the F.B.I. since it was connected to the discovery of the warehouse and the _Queen’s Gambit_. He would never hear Felicity babble on inanely about some tech thing or other, never hear her mutter the word ‘frak’ as she dealt with a difficult issue.

Oliver pulled his motorcycle up in front of the empty building containing the entrance to the Bunker and got off his bike, placing his helmet on the handlebars. Oliver entered the building and took the elevator down, silently thinking about Felicity and what she had once meant to him. Oliver exited the elevator, noting idly that the equipment he had ordered through A.R.G.U.S. was now set up so he could begin the serious training of Laurel and Thea.

While he knew that, one day, they would wish to join him in his crusade, he intended to make sure they were _ready_ for anything that came their way before he allowed them to join him in the field. He even had plans to contact John Constantine and see if he could arrange for his sister and girlfriend to receive the same protection against dark magic that he carried thanks to Constantine. That would keep them safe from Damien Darhk, especially now that Oliver understood how the protection worked. It was derived from the light of hope and love, and he knew that all three of them would have an easier time focusing on that power than he had had after years of darkness.

Oliver sat behind the bank of computers, feeling a sense of melancholy as he remembered the last time he had had to take over his own computer work after Felicity left the team and knowing that this wasn’t going to be like that, and opened the system with his personal override code, something Felicity, Dig, and Fyff had never known about since it was something that he arranged with Waller. Well, perhaps Fyff and Felicity had known; they were excellent programmers, after all, who familiarized themselves with their system. But they probably figured Oliver would never use the override code to find out what they had been up to. With a sigh, Oliver began to peruse what Felicity had been up to, from tracking gang activity to keeping an eye on Brickwell to- What the hell!?

Oliver leaned forward, scanning the files he was currently reading in disbelief and horror. There was a multitude of half-baked plans written out in the file, and schematics contained in them that Oliver recognized as the blueprints for Laurel’s building, her car, C.N.R.I., and even the courthouse. All of the notes were about the failings in security and how best to exploit them, ways to hack into Laurel’s car and make things appear to be an accident, even thoughts of draining funds from a really bad guy and hiring someone to kill Laurel. Felicity had been planning to kill Laurel, and there was no doubt as to the reason why. Jealousy. **_*2*_**

This left Oliver feeling conflicted for a moment. Felicity had been working for him, but she had also been planning to murder the woman he loved and do it in such a way that it couldn’t be traced back to her. A small part of him thought maybe it was for the best her murderer got away, but only a small part, which was ruthlessly squashed after Oliver remembered the note that had come with Felicity’s apple-gagged head. This killer had threatened his sister if things kept going, and they had just opened a whole new can of worms.

Oliver logged into the A.R.G.U.S. mainframe and put in the search perimeters for the modus operandi of this killer. It pulled up multiple files, all related to the same man: a serial killer and hitman that the F.B.I. was tracking known as The Huntsman. A.R.G.U.S. had their own file because he had been initially considered as a potential member for Task Force X before they came to recognize that The Huntsman was too much of an alpha wolf to be made to accept Waller’s authority. Oliver downloaded everything he could find about The Huntsman and his methods from the A.R.G.U.S. servers. His sister was possibly under threat by The Huntsman, and Oliver would not leave his sister’s fate in the hands of the F.B.I., no matter who was brought in to handle the investigation.

**_*DC*_ **

Alexandra Danvers looked up at a knock at the door of the F.B.I. field office in Seattle, Washington, where she was currently assigned. Her immediate superior, Thomas Weller, was standing in the doorway. “Agent Weller?” she asked curiously.

“Pack a bag, Danvers, you’re headed for Starling City with a team,” Weller replied. “The S.C.P.D. just uncovered evidence of a huge conspiracy and that serial killer you’ve been tracking is right in the middle of it, killed someone who was digging and got too close to a truth someone doesn’t want discovered.”

“The Huntsman?” Alex clarified, and Weller nodded. “I’ll be ready to go in less than an hour, depending on traffic.”

“Good to hear,” Weller said. “Meet the team at the airstrip.” Alex nodded and Weller left as Alex got up and began collecting her files on The Huntsman and everything he was connected to. She always had a go-bag ready at home in case she got an assignment like this, so the main thing she had to pack was her files on The Huntsman. She had been tracking him since she had run across his M.O. while studying Behavioral Analysis at Quantico. Her teacher had mentioned that The Huntsman was a puzzling case, as his targets varied due to the fact that he was both a serial killer and a hitman. The only other murderer with an M.O. this unique was Victor Zsasz in Gotham.

Zsasz was a monster, but he was nothing compared to The Huntsman. Zsasz had killed people for the mob and killed for his own pleasure, but the most that he did to his victims was put a bullet in them somewhere that would take a long, painful time to kill them. The Huntsman somehow managed to get his victims’ trust before abducting them; that was the only thing that made sense with the number of victims and the lack of a survivor. He earned their trust, which suggested he ingratiated himself into their lives somehow, as someone they saw socially or professionally. Then there was what he _did_ to the women and girls that he abducted. The heads were the only things that were recovered, and that was _only_ on the ones that he let them know about. Alex was certain that The Huntsman killed far more than he had let be known. She doubted even all of his hits were known unless those who hired him wanted the fate of their targets known to frighten others.

The apples in the mouths of severed heads and the notes left with them indicated what was done with the rest of the bodies, and that sickened Alex. She had met her share of monsters working for the F.B.I., but The Humtsman was on his own unique level. Bringing him to justice was more than just her job; it was her obsession. And now they knew where he was beginning to operate nearly from the beginning. The last they had known, he was in Gotham. What had brought him to Starling City so quickly? Normally he spent a few months in a city, and Alex doubted that he had been driven away by the rumors of a vigilante with a bat fetish in Gotham. The only thing that made sense was that someone very powerful and influential in the Starling City underworld had needed someone taken care of, someone who threatened to unravel everything, and they had spared no expense in getting the man who would send a message.

Alex would be the first to admit that a part of her had wanted to go to Starling City anyways to investigate the recent reports of a vigilante with a penchant for Robin Hood-like heroics taking the war against crime to a whole new level. She had especially wanted to do so after hearing that the Green Arrow had outright driven the Triad from Starling City. She would _love_ to get a one-on-one with the Green Arrow, find out what made him tick… after arresting him, of course. **_*3*_**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter.
> 
> Chapter Notes:
> 
> *1* So, this particular scene was spawned because of the ruckus that happened on Twitter some years back when Kevin Smith, who at the time was very interested in directing a couple episodes of “Arrow”, said that he wanted to do a two-parter inspired by “Se7en” and someone made a comment about Felicity’s head being in a box, which Smith ‘liked’ or whatever the term is for the heart icon (it’s been ages since I was on Twitter). This caused an uproar from Felicity/Olicity fans, who decried Smith as a misogynist and a woman-hater and all these other things, when in truth he probably just was appreciating the reference to the movie in question. Smith never did direct an episode of “Arrow”, which in my opinion is a crying shame.
> 
> *2* And there we go. Oliver has found out what Felicity was up to. As for why Felicity would leave that on the computers at the Bunker? Felicity, in both canon and fanon, tends to see the computer systems as *hers* and, as evidenced by what happened in 1x15 and in later seasons, doesn’t seem to think Oliver is intelligent enough to get passed her programming. She would think that even more so with the belief that her extra 20 years would make it impossible for Oliver to ever get access. But Oliver’s access was imprinted on the system itself, something she didn’t consider.
> 
> *3* It is canon that there is an Alex Danvers on Earth-1. I get the feeling that Alex on any Earth would be drawn towards some form of law enforcement and I wanted to bring her into this story partly because I wanted someone other than Samandra Watson to be the one investigating things.


	22. Fallout

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: For those who don’t read “Arrowverse: The Spectre”, for the time being that story and this one are the only ones I’m going to be writing. I’m gonna give myself a little time and space before beginning the 4K rewrites of “The Ripple Effect” and “The Emerald Queen”.

Oliver Queen opened the door of his apartment, not surprised in the least to find Laurel Lance standing on the other side of it, her gaze compassionate. “Guess your Dad told you what we found,” he said quietly, stepping aside to let her in. Laurel entered the apartment, Oliver closing the door behind her, and immediately drew Oliver into a hug, pulling him close to her. Oliver wrapped his arms around her slender torso, burying his face in her hair for a moment. Laurel reached up with one hand and stroked the back of his head. Oliver pulled away a moment later. “It was one thing to know the _Gambit_ was sunk on purpose, another thing to see the proof of it laid out before me,” he said as he guided Laurel to the couch.

“Dad looked about ready to go looking for the nearest bottle of whiskey, but he decided he’s going to guard the warehouse until the F.B.I. takes custody of the case,” Laurel said quietly as they sat down. “He doesn’t want anything happening to the evidence.”

“Good,” Oliver said softly. He looked at his hands, which were folded in his lap.

Laurel reached out and cupped his bristly chin with one hand, turning his head up and to the right to face her. “Hey,” she said softly, “something’s bothering you. What is it?”

“My mother’s had the proof that the _Gambit_ was sabotaged for almost as long as she’s been a part of Tempest,” Oliver said after a moment of wrestling with whether or not to confide in Laurel about his thoughts and feelings on the matter. “The _Gambit_ along with her word about who had it sabotaged would be enough to send Merlyn on the run from the F.B.I. and even Interpol since the _Gambit_ went down in international waters. She could have stopped the Undertaking years ago, could even stop it now, but I know she won’t, and I don’t know how to deal with that, Laurel.” **_*1*_**

“You don’t have to work through it alone, Ollie,” Laurel said softly, wrapping an arm around his broad shoulders and leaning her head against his right shoulder. “I’m here. Thea’s here. You’re not alone anymore.”

Oliver said nothing but curled one arm around his girlfriend’s slender frame and pulled her closer. The two of them sat in silence, thinking about what impact this new twist would have on Malcolm Merlyn’s plans and worrying over what his reaction might be. Oliver knew better than Laurel just how vindictive and sadistic Merlyn was when it came to punishment of those who betrayed him, and worried for his mother’s safety once Merlyn learned she had salvaged the remains of the _Queen’s Gambit_ and held it somewhere that could be discovered.

**_*DC*_ **

Moira Queen sat miserably in the holding cell that she had been escorted to once she had been booked. A few of the other prisoners in other cells on the block, all men, had given wolf-whistles and derogatory comments about her being there as she was escorted in and informed that she would be held until the F.B.I. arrived to take over the investigation. Moira had spent most of her time here staring at her hands; her one phone call had been to Jean Loring, her attorney, but Jean wouldn’t be able to come until the morning, and she doubted that even when she could that Jean would be able to get her out of here. She could already see the potential charges. Obstruction and conspiracy were at the top of the list. Murder if they decided she had had something to do with the deaths of Robert, Dave Hackett, and the eight crewmen.

Moira had been at home, planning a social function, when the police had barged in with a warrant for her arrest. When she had demanded to know the charges, Quentin Lance had told her that Walter and Oliver had had a lead from the recently-murdered Felicity Smoak that had led them to the _Queen’s Gambit_ and the warehouse she had purchased with the Tempest LLC. Moira had felt numb ever since, numb with the fear of what Malcolm would do when he learned of what she had done, and there was no doubt in her mind that he _would_ find out. Malcolm had eyes and ears everywhere; it surprised her that he didn’t know about the _Gambit_ and where it was stored; or perhaps he did know and had been allowing her this illusion of power over him all this time. That sounded like something Malcolm would do, let her think she had a modicum of control and then rip it away from her.

It didn’t matter now. There was no way of hiding the _Queen’s Gambit_ from the authorities, no way for Malcolm to dispose of it without drawing attention, and that would anger him as much as if she herself had used the remains of the _Gambit_ against him. He would find some way to exact vengeance on her unless she did something to lead the authorities away from Tempest and the Undertaking. But the only thing she could think of would see her children’s love for her turn to despair. But if they were dead, it wouldn’t matter how they felt about her. Yes. It was the only way. She had to protect her family, no matter the cost to her personally. Oliver and Thea had to be protected.

**_*DC*_ **

Malcolm Merlyn seethed silently in his lair at Merlyn Global, glaring down at the phone he had just hung up. That had been Silas Cole, his contact with the S.C.P.D. since before his wife’s murder all those years ago; it had been Cole who had informed him of their suspect, Cole who had secreted him a gun from the evidence locker to use to bring down his wife’s killer. Cole had long been a supporter of Merlyn’s designs for the Glades, having served in the Glades precinct and knowing just how corrupt that part of the city had been even before Tempest first tried to clean it up. He was onboard with the Undertaking, would be the one to ensure that no evidence of the Markov devices were found. But now, everything was in jeopardy.

Moira Queen had salvaged the _Queen’s Gambit_ in secret years ago and stored the remains in a warehouse on the edge of the city. Malcolm had known this for almost as long as the _Gambit_ had been in the city. He had chosen to allow Moira this illusion of control, ready to crush her under heel should she get any bright ideas. She had been a dutiful soldier in his war against the corruption and criminality in the Glades, even reporting to him that Walter had tasked Felicity Smoak to find out anything she could about Queen Consolidated projects from five years ago that might explain why Oliver and Tommy had been kidnapped and interrogated a few weeks ago. Malcolm had tasked The Huntsman with getting rid of Smoak, but apparently the serial killer had taken his time and Smoak had managed to find something that she shared with Oliver prior to her otherwise timely demise. This had led Oliver, Walter Steele, and the police to the _Queen’s Gambit_.

Malcolm had been completely blindsided by the phone call from Silas Cole, and unfortunately Cole could do nothing. The discovery of the _Gambit_ had shot like wildfire through the S.C.P.D. and the Federal Bureau of Investigation were already sending a team to take over the investigation. Quentin Lance and a cadre of trusted officers were guarding the warehouse in the meantime, so there was no chance of moving the wreck before the F.B.I. seized control of the investigation.

Everything was spinning out of control. The Green Arrow was systematically targeting those on The List, the very people who were unknowingly aiding Merlyn by ensuring that none but criminals lived in the Glades, intent on seeing those same people brought to justice. The only reason those on The List didn’t expand was because Merlyn protected them, but he hadn’t been able to protect any of those the Green Arrow had set his sights on, because the vigilante managed to provide insurmountable evidence, giving the police and the district attorney’s office slam dunk cases. The one time that this hadn’t happened, when the purchasable District Attorney, Kate Spencer, had not used the Green Arrow’s evidence, Green Arrow had taken action himself and killed James Holder. Since then, Spencer had found herself under suspicion of corruption and bribery, and there was rumors that the mayor was planning to fire her if public sentiment swayed too heavily against her. The reason for all of this had been a report by Susan Williams at Channel 52, citing an anonymous source who had led them to the interesting accounts surrounding certain cases that the D.A. had ‘lost’. Merlyn suspected that the Green Arrow was involved in this, as well, using the court of public opinion to crucify the D.A. who had refused to play ball like her underlings.

Now the _Queen’s Gambit_ had been discovered, in a warehouse belonging to an LLC cleverly named Tempest. No doubt Moira’s plan to bring down the organization if she and her daughter were ever killed. But now it had been revealed, and with the Green Arrow having announced the name of his organization during his debut speech, it wouldn’t take long for the sharp minds assigned to the team from the F.B.I. to begin questioning Moira about what Tempest was and how it was connected. He would need to find a way to remind her of what was at stake. The Undertaking was too important to fail now, mere months from completion. He could not, _would not_ allow it. **_*2*_**

**_*DC*_ **

Alex Danvers leaned back the seat of the Gulfstream that they were being flown to Starling City in. It would take less than an hour to reach Starling City by air, whereas it would’ve taken three hours to reach it by the ground. A federal crime scene unit would be en route to Starling City as soon as they could the next morning to begin processing the _Queen’s Gambit_. Alex considered what they already knew.

Walter Steele had tasked a lowly I.T. agent, Felicity Smoak, with digging into the company’s projects five years ago to find anything that would indicate why Oliver Queen had been abducted and interrogated by persons unknown. Mr. Queen had at some point discovered the assignment from Mr. Steele and redirected all reports from Miss Smoak to him instead. Was there a power struggle between the current C.E.O. of Queen Consolidated and the heir apparent to the business empire? Something to discover, especially if it had a bearing on the investigation. Miss Smoak had, prior to Mr. Queen’s recent trip to Central City, informed him of the existence of the warehouse and the LLC known as Tempest.

Now, there was a big red question mark. Tempest was a name previously uttered by the Green Arrow in his debut message that had hijacked Starling City’s emergency broadcast system. Investigators were still trying to determine how he had done it and found nothing. But the existence of an LLC that just happened to have the name of what the Green Arrow inferred was an organization answering to someone who had masterminded the current state of affairs in Starling City was both troubling and exciting in Alex’s mind. It suggested that the Green Arrow had information that even law enforcement didn’t, information that pointed to a conspiracy on American soil surrounding the events going on in an American city. If this Tempest LLC was in any way connected to the group of the same name that the Green Arrow had mentioned in his debut speech, they would need to find out everything they could.

According to the reports forwarded to them by the S.C.P.D., Moira Queen was in custody awaiting their questioning; she had had her phone call and requested her lawyer, who would meet them in the morning at the precinct where Mirs Queen was being held. Detective Quentin Lance, who had a personal connection to this due to his daughter Sara’s death in relation to the _Queen’s Gambit_ , was guarding the site with a handful of trusted officers to ensure no one tampered with the evidence. Alex grimaced as she realized Lance would probably insist on being involved in the investigation in some capacity due to his daughter having been on the _Gambit_ when it went down, and she was glad that the team’s Special Agent in Charge (SAC), Darius Trimble, would be the one dealing with the local LEO’s.

**_*DC*_ **

Walter Steele sighed before taking a sip of the scotch on the rocks he had poured himself. By the time he had reached the Queen Mansion, the police had already come and taken his wife away. Walter supposed it was for the best that it had happened before Thea returned home. The girl was currently waiting for her brother to come pick her up, electing to stay with him while this crisis ran it’s course. Walter supposed that he couldn’t blame his stepdaughter for wanting to get away from the Mansion. It was full of memories of her broken family, memories that would be rightly stirred up by the discovery of the _Queen’s Gambit_.

Walter himself wasn’t sure how to handle the revelations of the day. The obvious evidence that the _Queen’s Gambit_ had been deliberately sunk was burned into his mind, as was the knowledge that his wife had hidden this from him for their entire marriage. What else had she hidden from him? How deep did this conspiracy go? How many at Queen Consolidated were answering to his wife and not to him? Was Oliver even truly surprised at the discovery of the _Gambit_ , or had he known and simply been acting the part of the distraught survivor? Walter hated himself for these thoughts, but there was no avoiding them.

Walter looked up as he heard footsteps approaching. A moment later, Oliver had entered the room. “Walter, how are you holding up?” Oliver asked.

“I don’t really know the answer to that question,” Walter admitted. “And you? I can’t imagine what we saw today was easy.”

“No, it wasn’t,” Oliver said. “I don’t know how things are going to be between Mom and I, even if she finds a way to talk herself out of this. But we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. I imagine things are going to be a bit tense with the company because of this. I was wondering how we’re meant to proceed.”

“We proceed as though everything is normal, to ensure our investors don’t panic,” Walter said. “That means that tomorrow night, the two of us need to be at the Unidac auction.”

“Alright,” Oliver said with a nod. “What do you think are our odds of purchasing Unidac?”

“I would say we have a strong position, the only real threat is Kord Industries, but I believe we’ll persevere in the end,” Walter said. “You should probably get Thea to your apartment. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be alright.”

“Okay,” Oliver said dubiously. “Goodnight, Walter.”

“Goodnight, Oliver.” Walter watched the younger man go and then went outside, walking down the steps and leaning against the stone railing to look across the back of the grounds. They were so peaceful, as if nothing had changed, and yet, everything had. The world had shifted on it’s axis as far as Walter was concerned. The _Gambit_ had been sabotaged. His wife had salvaged the yacht before she was ever his wife and hidden the truth of what happened from everyone for almost five years. The _Gambit_ had been held in a warehouse belonging to an LLC that shared it’s name with the group that the Green Arrow mentioned. While Walter had no great love for vigilantes, he doubted that this was a coincidence and wondered what else his wife was involved in.

More importantly, what should he do about it? Should he be the stalwart husband and stand at her side, or should he seek justice for Robert’s demise, and cut ties with both Moira and the company in this crisis?

**_*DC*_ **

Oliver woke up early the next morning, blinking up at the ceiling. Feeling something on his chest, he looked down to see that Laurel had draped her arm across his chest while they slept, Laurel having stayed over last night to help comfort Thea, who’s world had just been rocked by the discovery of the _Queen’s Gambit_ , the same as theirs had been. Oliver turned his head to the side and studied the features of the woman he loved, marveling at the difference between her and the doppelganger from Earth-2. His Laurel’s features had always had a softness to them, a kindness that seemed to rest in her very skin. By contrast, Earth-2 Laurel’s harsh, angular features had been an easy way to tell that she wasn’t the Laurel he knew and loved. Her features fit her attitude towards life, harsh and unforgiving. But most of all, Oliver was struck by how young Laurel seemed in her sleep, face unmarred by the frown that occasionally furrowed her brow.

Oliver slowly moved Laurel’s arm off of his chest and swung his legs out of bed, standing and stretching before he got ready for the day. Thea was in the guest room, and both Thea and Laurel would be hungry soon. Oliver quickly showered and got dressed before heading downstairs to find what he could make for breakfast. He had just begun looking when there was an oddly timid knock on the front door of his apartment. Oliver, unsure who it could be, approached the door warily and opened it, relaxing as he found Tommy Merlyn on the other side of the door. “Hey, buddy,” Oliver said, stepping to the side. “Come on in.”

“Are we still buddies?” Tommy asked softly, hurt shining in his eyes as he stepped inside. Oliver frowned, giving him a curious look. Tommy shook his head. “First, I find out you and Laurel are back together when you walk into that dinner party together, and now I have to find out about the _Queen’s Gambit_ and your mother from the morning news?”

“Oh,” Oliver said quietly. “I’m sorry, Tommy. I guess I’ve been so caught up in things that I keep forgetting to loop you in. Why don’t you join us for breakfast?” In truth, Oliver realized he had let his friendship with Tommy fall by the wayside because not only had Tommy died almost eight years ago by his reckoning, but he had seen two other versions of his best friend, both villains, die in that time. It was hard to remember that Tommy was alive.

“Us? And who’s cooking? Not Laurel, I hope,” Tommy said, giving a theatrical shudder as he remembered Laurel’s attempt to make pancakes one morning. The fire department had been called.

“Laurel, Thea, and I,” Oliver clarified. “Thea decided she wanted to stay with me while all of this plays out, and Laurel decided to stay and help comfort her. And I’ll be the one cooking.”

“So, instead of instant death it’ll be prolonged?” Tommy joked. Oliver rolled his eyes but smiled in spite of himself.

“I’ve found cooking comes easy to me,” Oliver said with a shrug. Not like he could tell Tommy that he learned to cook when he decided to become domesticated househusband after infiltrating the League of Assassins and stabbing their leader in his black heart following their duel atop the Starling Dam two and a half years from now, and saying he had learned to cook in the five years he’d been away would raise other questions in his best friend. **_*3*_**

“If you says so,” Tommy said dubiously. “So, anything else you’ve been up to that I should know about?”

“Let’s see, I went to Central City and recruited some new blood for Applied Sciences, maybe even poached a couple of people from S.T.A.R. Labs depending how they find their new chief scientist, and shut down over half of the projects Queen Consolidated’s Applied Sciences division is running,” Oliver said, deciding on making blueberry pancakes since he had the ingredients for it. He slowly began to get things together. “Would you believe half of those projects weren’t even about making a profit, much less providing technology to make other people’s lives easier? No, they were vanity projects, stroking these arrogant bastards’ egos. They weren’t too happy when I told them I was cutting funding.”

“Look at you, the responsible businessman,” Tommy said teasingly. His smile faded as he added sourly, “Dad’s been asking me to take after your example and come work with him.”

“Maybe you should,” Oliver said, thinking that if Tommy was involved with his family’s company when Malcolm was brought to justice, he could at least salvage something from the wreckage. “I know it’s fun to ride around in fast cars and date lots of women, but Tommy, I lived that life five years ago and you know what I found when I was taken away from it?” Tommy shook his head. “I found that, in the end, it meant nothing. All the girls I dated, all the cars I drove, all the times I got into trouble with you and bought my way out of it with my family’s money and name? None of it meant anything. I had left no legacy for Thea, or for anyone else I cared about. I would be forgotten in the annals of history, and you know what? I don’t want that. I don’t want the name Oliver Queen to be forgotten. I want it to mean something to future generations.” As Oliver had said all of this, he had begun mixing the batter for the pancakes from the instant batter mix he had on hand. He checked the consistency and found it to be appropriate. He opened the refrigerator and pulled out a bag of blueberries, half of which he poured into the batter. He set the bag aside and began mixing the berries into the batter. Once that was done, he returned the bag to the fridge.

“That was… really deep,” Tommy admitted. “I-I hadn’t really thought of it that way before. I’ll give what you’ve said some thought.” He chuckled humorlessly. “Dad’ll be pleased if I follow your example.”

“Not saying you have to be exactly like me, Tommy,” Oliver said. “Just… don’t let yourself be forgotten because you decided to party the best years of your life away.” Oliver took a moment deciding between bacon and sausages to accompany the pancakes and eggs he would fix and decided on bacon. He flicked on the coffee pot, knowing the smell of fresh coffee would lure Laurel and Thea to the kitchen. “And thank you.”

“For what?” Tommy asked.

“You haven’t pushed me on what I said at the dinner party, or on how I’m feeling about what’s going on with Mom and the _Gambit_ ,” Oliver said quietly.

“Figured that you’ll talk about it if you’re comfortable,” Tommy said with a shrug. “I’m not gonna push you, buddy.” The two men chatted quietly as two sets of soft footsteps came from upstairs and Laurel and Thea arrived at the base of the stairs. Both ladies were in bathrobes, and moved to adjust their coverings at the sight of Tommy. “Hello, ladies,” Tommy greeted. “Looking chipper as ever this morning.”

Thea glowered at the man she would normally bestow a winning smile upon and growled, “Shut up. I haven’t had my coffee.” She moved to the coffee pot, where a mug sat waiting to be filled with sugar and creamer sitting nearby. Laurel merely glowered at Tommy to express her similar attitude.

Tommy whistled and side-eyed Oliver. “Tough crowd,” he stage-whispered.

“I _will_ eviscerate you,” Thea growled as she finished mixing her coffee with copious amounts of sugar and creamer. She took a sip and let out a contented sigh. “ _Perfect_.”

“Coffee addict,” Tommy shot at her.

“It’s not nice to make fun of an addiction,” Thea sulked at him while Laurel mixed her own cup, closing her eyes, mentally counting to three, and reminding herself that she shouldn’t murder one of her best friends because he was overly cheerful in the early hours of the morning.

Oliver cooked up breakfast amid some rather amusing conversations between the four of them and then served up each plate. Tommy took an experimental bite of his pancakes and blinked in surprise. “Wow, Ollie, these are great,” Tommy said enthusiastically. “Maybe you can give Laurel some lessons, so she doesn’t kill herself in her own kitchen?” Laurel shot Tommy a poisonous look that left the playboy of the group gulping and focusing on his food.

Oliver chuckled and said, “I don’t know if I would be a very good teacher, Tommy.”

“Besides, if he teaches me how to cook, you’d never taste the poison I slipped you,” Laurel said sweetly, which reminded Oliver rather horribly of the recording he had seen of Black Siren tormenting Felicity and Rory after the two had uncovered her secret following her escape from Barry’s pipeline prison. He shuddered along with Tommy at how scary Laurel can be when she’s barely waking up.

The amusing commentary was cut short as Oliver’s cell phone rang. Oliver answered, still smiling, and said, “Oliver Queen.” The other three noticed as his smile faded, and a haunted look came to his features. “I-I see. Thank you for calling, Officer. Yes, you too,” Oliver said mechanically, hanging up the phone and setting it on the island counter where the four of them had been eating.

“Ollie?” Thea asked nervously. “What is it?”

“That was the duty officer at the precinct where Mom is being held,” Oliver said softly. “They went to bring Mom to interrogation for the F.B.I. and found her hanging by her own stockings. They tried to revive her, but…”

“No,” Thea whimpered, Laurel moving to pull the teenager into a hug. “Please, Ollie… Please tell me they’re mistaken, that it’s not her. Please…”

“I’m sorry, Speedy,” Oliver said, his own eyes wet with tears. “Mom’s dead.” **_*4*_**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter.
> 
> Originally, I was going to have Merlyn kill Walter and seriously injure Thea in an attack at the Queen Mansion, but I decided that that would be enough to push Oliver overboard and have him outright confront Merlyn. So, instead, I left off with Walter wondering what he should do about Moira and Queen Consolidated.
> 
> Hard to believe we haven’t quite reached the end of Episode 3 yet, but the next chapter should include the Unidac auction, albeit a brief interlude in the chapter since it’ll go smoothly without Deadshot taking aim at the guests.
> 
> Chapter Notes:
> 
> *1* When it boils right down to it, Moira Queen was not a good person. I would hesitate to say she was even a good mother, but everything she did, she did because she thought she was protecting her children. But she sure as hell didn’t care about anyone else’s families. She was quite willing to sit by and let the Undertaking happen. It was only when Oliver made it clear to her that he would act against Merlyn that she chose to act instead, hoping to keep her son from facing the man who had become her jailor for nearly six years.
> 
> *2* This particular Malcolm scene was easier to write mainly because he was primarily getting pissy about how many things are going wrong with his plans. Does anyone feel sad for him? *snickers at the thought* Ah, but the pain is just beginning for our dear Dark Archer. Yes. It is only the beginning.
> 
> *3* *projectile vomits into the sink* Seriously, who’s brilliant fucking idea was it to take Oliver Queen, the man who had just defeated Ra’s al Ghul, grandmaster of the League of Assassins, and turn him into a domesticated househusband who cooked and cleaned and all that? Oh, right. Guggenheim and Mericle. Never mind. On another note, someone remind me at some point to write that Arrow/Legends crossover idea I had where The Hood shows up in Season 4 and owns Season 4 Ollie’s pathetic ass…
> 
> *4* So, how many people were expecting *that* to be Moira’s plan to save her family? Originally, it was going to be a plan that would have them hate her where she confessed to killing Robert, but I decided to go this route instead because it would further the plot along more and give Oliver more fuel in his fight against Merlyn.


	23. The Canary Returns

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So, I ended up writing this chapter up last night, which means altogether I wrote 15K words yesterday once you factor in the chapter for “The Spectre” and the previous chapter of this story. I decided to hold off on posting it for a bit in order to give Chapter 21 the limelight for a bit.

“Thank you, Tommy,” Malcolm Merlyn said after listening to his distraught son’s phone call. “Please give Oliver and Thea my condolences and tell them that if they need anything, my door is open to them.” His son gave an affirmative reply and hung up. Merlyn set his phone down on his desk and moved to the window looking out over Starling City. A new day was dawning, and with it dawned an unexpected degree of hope that his plans would be salvaged despite the current interference with the F.B.I. Moira Queen had taken her own life in prison last night, and with her died any possibility of the F.B.I. finding out the truth of Tempest and it’s plans for the Glades.

Malcolm said a silent prayer he learned in the League for Moira’s soul and took a moment to grieve for his friend, as he had grieved for Robert after confirmation came of the _Gambit_ sinking to the depths, and then moved to his desk. There were other matters to take care of; Moira had handled her fumbling with grace and ensured nothing could lead back to him, and in the end, that was all that mattered. The mission, the Undertaking, had to continue.

Now there was a problem with the plan, however. Walter Steele was an incorruptible type and would be unwilling to bend to his will regarding Unidac Industries. Perhaps it was time that Walter was encouraged to part ways with Queen Consolidated, making way for a younger man who had much more to lose if he chose to defy Malcolm. And if Walter proved recalcitrant, well, there were solutions for that, too. For what came after the Unidac merger was finalized, Malcolm needed someone in place at Queen Consolidated to ensure his plans proceeded, and Oliver would prove easier to manipulate than Walter. He had so much to lose; his lover, his sister, his reputation… Malcolm had quashed the murmurings of what Oliver had revealed at the dinner party, but at a word from Malcolm those murmurings could be unleashed, tarnishing Oliver’s reputation.

Yes, while Oliver was useful where he was, he would be more useful as C.E.O. of Queen Consolidated, especially if he could be convinced to return Doug Miller to his former status as head of Applied Sciences once the transfer of power was official. That would take some delicate wording, of course; he didn’t want to push Oliver too far, too fast. He wouldn’t be able to control whoever replaced Oliver with any degree of certainty, and that was if he wasn’t forced to swallow up Queen Consolidated as it spiraled downward with the loss of three successive C.E.O.s, two of them being murdered. Three, if Walter proved recalcitrant. **_*1*_**

**_*DC*_ **

Oliver signed the paperwork that he needed to so that his mother’s body could be transferred from the coroner’s office to the funeral parlor that his mother had pre-paid for services from, his expression wooden. This had thrown him for a loop, losing his mother now. He knew that things would change when he killed Eobard Thawne, that the world he knew no longer existed, but this was the first tangible proof of that, and it was proof that was rather jarring. His mother had given her life so Thea could live when Slade captured them. What would happen now that his mother was dead? Would Slade capture Laurel along with Thea and make him choose between the woman he loved and his little sister? Or would he simply gut Thea like a trout, as Rochev had once threatened Oliver with at the offices of Queen Consolidated after her takeover?

A woman he recognized as Alex Danvers stepped up from where she had been waiting. “Mr. Queen, I’m Special Agent Alex Danvers with the F.B.I.,” she said apologetically. “I’m so sorry for your loss, and I know this is a horrible time, but we do need you to come down to the precinct where we’ve set up and give a statement about what happened yesterday, both at Queen Consolidated and afterward, when you and Mr. Steele led Detectives Lance and Hilton to the warehouse.”

“I understand, Agent Danvers,” Oliver said quietly. “I have nothing pressing to attend to, so I can follow you back to the precinct.”

“That sounds good,” Alex said with a nod, and the two of them left the morgue, splitting up in the parking lot. Oliver got on his Ducati and pulled out of the parking lot, following Agent Danvers’ car while still processing what this early death for his mother meant. There were other things his mother had done that would no longer happen if things proceeded as they did last time. There would be no warning voice about the Undertaking, leading to no evacuation the night it happened. There would be no face to the Undertaking, which could lead to a violent uprising towards everyone within the Queen and Merlyn income brackets. There would be no one to warn the League of Merlyn’s continued existence, should the worst happen, and the bastard slipped through Oliver’s fingers. There would be no one to run against Sebastian Blood and nearly defeat him, which was one reason Slade had acted when he did. **_*2*_**

Worse, there was no way now for the revelation of Thea’s parentage to come from his mother unless she had stuffed the paperwork away in a storage unit like she had the evidence of Emiko’s existence. In some ways, this was a relief, but Oliver wasn’t blind. He had seen the gooey eyes that Thea threw at Tommy, and his stomach churned at the thought that with Laurel no longer on the market, Tommy might be willing to entertain Thea’s feelings once she turned eighteen in a few months. He had to figure out a way to reveal their relationship so he could nip that in the bud before it became something all too real. Best he could do right now was play the threatening big brother card.

Oliver, not for the first time, wondered why the hell Barry and Sara thought that time travel was so cool and exciting. In his opinion, there was nothing fun, cool, or exciting about this. Horrifying, heart-wrenching, and nerve-wracking, on the other hand? Yes, to all three of them.

Nearly half an hour after leaving the morgue, Alex’s car and Oliver’s motorcycle pulled up in front of the precinct. Oliver dismounted and placed his helmet on the handlebars, following Agent Danvers into the precinct. “Ducati?” she questioned his mode of transport.

“Yup,” he said evenly.

“Nice,” Alex said appreciatively. She led Oliver to an empty interview room, the difference between it and an interrogation room being the lack of a one-way mirror for people to spy on you with. Oliver took a seat at the table and Alex sat across from him. “Alright, Mr. Queen, let’s start from the top. What made you think the package was suspicious?”

“After five years of trusting my senses to know when it was a good day to leave my shelter on the island, those senses are pretty sharp,” Oliver said. “I detected a faint odor of decay from the package and worried what we might find in there. I didn’t expect it to be Felicity’s head, or for it to have an apple in it like some sick joke.”

“Yes, the serial killer who apparently killed your friend is known for this particular sick calling card,” Alex said quietly. “Now, did you inform Mr. Steele of the information Miss Smoak gave you before or after the package’s arrival?”

“Before,” Oliver replied. “We had just decided to go check it out later in the day when the package arrived.”

“I’ve listened to the recording of your report of what happened,” Alex said. “You sounded rather detached, but you speak of Miss Smoak familiarly. Were you… involved?”

“Are you asking if I was seeing Felicity on the side despite my relationship with Laurel Lance?” Oliver asked with a quirked eyebrow. “I’d expect that kind of question from Detective Lance, not the F.B.I. The short answer is no. Walter asked Felicity to help me familiarize myself with modern technology.” Oliver gave the agent a sarcastic smile. “I was stranded on an island with no technology for five years. It was kind of big news.”

Alex returned his sarcastic smile. “I must have missed that newsbyte. Or maybe your rescue just wasn’t important enough for Seattle news networks,” she said. She looked at her folder. “According to the reports of Detectives Lance and Hilton, you were the one to suggest that the passcode was related to you or your father. How could you have been sure if you didn’t know about the warehouse and what it contained?”

“Are you asking, without saying the words, if I knew ahead of time what we would find in there?” Oliver asked.

After a moment, Alex said, “Yes, I am. I find it highly suspicious that you knew the passcode, Mr. Queen.”

“It wouldn’t seem so suspicious if you had gotten to know my mother, Agent Danvers,” Oliver replied frostily. “My mother was a very complicated woman, but the one thing that mattered to her above all else was family, and at the time she set this LLC up, her mind would’ve been focused entirely on what it meant regarding my father and me. The only surprise for me is that it was my father’s name, considering their marital issues.”

“Marital issues?” Alex echoed questioningly.

Oliver shifted uncomfortably. He hadn’t meant to talk about that, but the cat was out of the bag now. “My father was not the most faithful of husbands,” he said delicately. “Many of his assistants over the years were also his lovers.”

“Something I hear the two of you have in common,” Alex said. “You did, after all, take Detective Lance’s younger daughter with you while dating her sister, a sister you are now seeing romantically again. Personally, I think she’s too forgiving. If I had a sister and someone did that to us, I’d castrate them.”

“Well, then perhaps it’s for the best that you have no sister,” Oliver sneered out. “Not that I would be interested in you, anyways. I have a pretty good detector, and you haven’t checked me out once. Maybe you pitch for the other team?”

“And if I do?” Alex said hotly.

“Then I suggest you turn your sexual frustrations towards finding a partner instead of cornering a man who has just lost his mother with unfounded accusations!”

The door to the interview room opened and another agent stepped in. “Danvers, a word, now. Mr. Queen, you’re free to go. I assure you that the next time one of us speaks to you, it will be with the utmost respect.”

“Thank you, Agent…” Oliver trailed off leadingly.

“Darius Trimble, Mr. Queen. I’m the Special Agent in Charge,” Trimble said.

“Thank you, Agent Trimble, and I wish you good luck in piecing together this mess. God knows _I_ would like some answers as to what happened five years ago,” Oliver said, standing and departing the room without another word. Trimble shut the door behind him and glowered at Alex.

“We are barely being tolerated here because this case is too big for local police to handle, and you’re letting your personal feelings for Mr. Queen’s life choices is not making this process any easier,” Trimble bit out at the young behavioral analyst. “You were sent here because of your expertise regarding the serial killer calling himself The Huntsman. You will exhaust yourself in pursuit of the killer, and _only_ in pursuit of that. You will leave the investigation into the _Queen’s Gambit_ to the rest of the team. Dismissed.”

Alex slowly got up and left the room, cheeks flaming red with shame and embarrassment. She hadn’t been ripped into like that since basic training at Quantico, and worse, she knew it was for damn good reasons. She had gone after Queen hard because of what she had read in the reports from Quentin Lance, who hadn’t been able to keep his personal bias against Queen out of his report. Even Hilton’s report had mentioned the circumstances surrounding Sara Lance being on the _Queen’s Gambit_ when it was sabotaged. Instead, she would focus on the charge she had been given: hunting The Huntsman. **_*3*_**

**_*DC*_ **

Oliver entered his office at Queen Consolidated, hands still flexing as though he would like nothing more than to place them around Alex Danvers’ throat and not let go. He took deep, calming breaths as he moved to look out at the cityscape. He would rather not be here, but Walter had called him and told him they needed to show a united front for the Board and for their investors, and so he was here, trying to put on a political mask for the vultures picking over his mother’s proverbial carcass instead of at home with his sister, processing his grief. One thing he knew for sure was that he was going out tonight and he was going to find someone deserving to unleash his pent-up grief and anger on.

“Mr. Queen?” Oliver looked up as his Executive Assistant, a mousy woman named Gina Atkins, knocked timidly on the glass partition. “Mr. Steele left word for you to go to his office as soon as you came in.”

“Thank you, Gina,” Oliver said, taking a few calming breaths. “Tell Walter I’ll be up there shortly.” Gina nodded, and Oliver took a moment to grab a water bottle from the minifridge in his office. Uncapping the bottle, he downed several large gulps before returning the bottle to its place in the minifridge. He made his way to the elevators, suspecting his E.A. had already told Walter he was in a foul mood. Sure enough, when he got to Walter’s office, Walter was giving him a concerned look. “What?” Oliver asked briskly.

“Oliver, I know what I said, but if you’re struggling with everything that’s going on, I can assure the Board on my own, it’ll just take a few more minutes than it will with you present,” Walter said softly. “And you don’t need to come to the Unidac auction tonight. You need to be with Thea.”

“I’m already here, so we might as well get it over with,” Oliver said. “And it’s not you; one of the agents decided to take offense to how Sara ended up on the _Gambit_ and accuse me of seeing Felicity on the side while seeing Laurel now.”

“Ah,” Walter said quietly. “How did that come up?”

“I may have mentioned something about Mom and Dad’s marital issues,” Oliver admitted. Walter grimaced, remembering more than one occasion where Robert had been sleeping with one of his assistants. “Look, let’s just get this dog-and-pony show over with, then I’m taking the rest of the day off to be with Thea. Tommy’s staying with her for now, but…”

“But she’ll need her brother to get through this,” Walter said evenly. “Alright, son. Let me walk you through what to expect…”

**_*DC*_ **

Laurel Lance sat across from Peter Declan in an interview room at Iron Heights prison. She wanted to be back in Starling, to be there for Thea and Oliver during this horrifying time in their lives, but Oliver had quietly reminded her of the ticking clock on this man’s life. Even though Oliver believed the man was innocent, Laurel needed to hear the man’s story for herself before she decided to take this case, especially at this late hour where she couldn’t be sure any new evidence would be accepted. “A jury has found you guilty, Mr. Declan,” she began.

“The evidence was stacked against me,” Declan said, hands jerking emphatically, one hand holding tightly to the picture of his daughter, “but I didn’t kill my wife.” He placed the picture on the table between them, pointing at the little girl in the photo as he continued, “I didn’t take my daughter’s mother from her.”

“The murder weapon was a knife,” Laurel began methodically, “from your kitchen, with _your_ prints on it. It was found, along with Camille’s blood, in the trunk of _your_ car.” Declan got up, pacing the room as Laurel continued, “Your _neighbors_ said they heard an argument that night.”

“We had a knockdown fight over Jason Brodeur,” Declan said, once more jerking one hand up and down emphatically. “Camille worked for him, and his company had been dumping toxic waste into the Glades.” Laurel kept her face impassive, but her gut jerked at this statement. She had seen plenty of documentaries about toxic waste being dumped at sea and contaminating the wildlife. What might toxic waste do to people if it were mixed into their drinking water due to oversaturation? “Camille told me that she had gone and told a supervisor about it. I was afraid for my family’s safety. And we argued. Very loudly, yes.

“Izzy started crying. So, Camille went and stayed in her room,” Declan said as he moved and took the seat across from Laurel again, who was finding nothing false about what Declan was saying, how he was acting. “In the morning I went to apologize, and, uh, and that’s when I found her.” Laurel leaned forward, watching Declan’s face, and more importantly his eyes, which had a tormented look about them, as the man continued, “So, I just grabbed Izzy, and I ran outside, and I called 911.” Declan leaned forward, meeting Laurel’s green eyes with desperation shining in his own. “I’m innocent, Miss Lance.”

After a long moment, Laurel said softly, “I believe you.” **_*4*_**

**_*DC*_ **

Oliver checked over his gear one last time. Fyff was back behind the computers, looking gratified at being away from Waller’s immediate presence again. He had asked no questions about what happened to his replacement or where John Diggle was; he had raised an eyebrow at the arrival of Laurel and Thea with Oliver and the way they went to the ‘training center’ but had said nothing. Oliver looked over at Laurel and Thea, his heart breaking slightly at the morose expression on his sister’s face. Losing a parent wasn’t easy; Oliver had had to deal with his grief over Robert’s death on his own while also struggling to survive. He was just glad he and Thea had Laurel and Tommy in their lives to help them. Grief was easier when you had someone to share it with.

Laurel had gone to see Declan earlier today and then got the information from her father about Matt Istook. Oliver was going to pay Istook a visit and then, once he got the file and delivered it back here, go on a patrol of the Glades, see if he couldn’t find some drug dealer or would-be rapist to pummel. “This shouldn’t take long,” Oliver said, turning to face Laurel and Thea. “Once I’ve dealt with Istook, got the file, and done some legwork in the Glades, I’ll be back here for our training session. Okay?”

“Sounds good,” Thea said, looking down at her feet. Laurel put an arm comfortingly around the girl’s slender shoulders.

Oliver turned and began to change into his gear.

**_*DC*_ **

Finding Istook was easy. What was hard was not just letting the train hit the mewling bastard after he gave up the location of the file. The man was guilty of setting up a woman to be murdered, and the side of Green Arrow that had exulted in his training by the League of Assassins was howling for Istook’s death. But that was not the way to inspire others to be heroes, Green Arrow knew, and so he had let the man go at the last possible second, disappearing as the train shot by. He made his way swiftly to Istook’s office and retrieved the file before returning to the Bunker and giving it to Laurel, who set about familiarizing herself with the file.

With the Declan case moving forward with their possession of the file, Green Arrow took to the rooftops of the Glades and began his patrol, keeping his senses open for any sign of crime and waiting to hear if Fyff picked up something on police chatter. As he raced across the rooftops, he found himself itching for violence. He knew it was wrong; he knew he probably shouldn’t be out here with this desire in him, but he didn’t want to destroy his relationships with Thea, Laurel, and Tommy by lashing out. So, he would lash out at those who deserved it, those who preyed on the people of Starling City like a cancer preys on healthy cells.

Green Arrow heard a muffled scream come from the east, and instantly turned in that direction. He found himself looking down at another alleyway, and another waitress, this one from Al’s Bar & Grill. Four drunks had surrounded her. Green Arrow fired a zipline arrow and descended rapidly, knocking one of the men down in the process. He didn’t give the men in the alley a chance to react, surging forward and delivering a knife-hand attack to one man’s throat, which caused him to gag and then vomit. Green Arrow leaped back from the deluge and found the man he had knocked down, a bear of a man, had recovered his balance as the man wrapped his huge hairy arms around Green Arrow and lifted him up. Green Arrow thrashed in the man’s grip, but to break this sort of grip, he needed leverage, and the man wasn’t offering him any. His bow dropped to the ground as he moved his hands upward to try and pry one of the arms loose.

The man he had forced to vomit lumbered forward drunkenly, swinging at his head. Green Arrow ducked his head to the side, and the punch landed on the chin of the bear of a man holding him. Unfortunately, this did little to phase the man. The next punch from the drunk did land on Green Arrow, forcing his head to the side with it’s force. “ **Ooh, that hurt,** ” Green Arrow said sarcastically. “ **Maybe with a couple of more beers, you can actually lay waste to me.** ”

“Sheddup, Greenie,” the drunk said thickly. He reared back, and Green Arrow thrust his legs forward, catching the man’s neck between his ankles. He twisted his torso, using the leverage he now had with his legs grounded in some way, and managed to force his way out of the bear of a man’s grip. Unfortunately, this meant he crashed to the ground and pulled the other drunk down on top of him. Green Arrow delivered a solid strike to the man’s temple and then threw him off, standing. He stood, snatching up his bow, and turned to face the bear of a man, firing a bolo arrow that wrapped the bastard up like a Christmas present. Then he heard the sound of a pistol being cocked. He turned slowly.

The other two men were holding the waitress tight, one of them aiming a pistol at the shaking girl’s head. Up close, Green Arrow would put her to be about 21 or 22, the same age he had been when his yacht had sunk and he had begun his journey to become the man he was now. “Lose the bow, Green Bean, or I’ll blow this bitch’s brains all over the alley and fuck her corpse for the fun of it,” one of the men said roughly, earning a high-pitched wail from the girl.

Green Arrow gritted his teeth. He had run into this fight angry and stupid, and because of that, it was either give up his weapon, or let an innocent girl be shot. He could never do the latter, but if he did the former, they were both probably dead. He slowly began to lower his bow, struggling to think of a way that he could get himself and the girl out of this.

A metallic _thunk_ sounded, and then another high-pitched wail was heard, this one coming from the device and piecing the eardrums of everyone in the alley. Both men holding the girl moved to grab their ears, and Green Arrow took the shot with one of his basic arrows, catching the pistol the man had been wielding and sending it skittering across the blacktop. Green Arrow wasted no time, surging forward and taking the fight to the man who’d been wielding the gun, beating him down with his bow, while the other man found his hands were full in dealing with the demonic blonde in black leather wielding a bo staff that had descended from a nearby fire escape. Green Arrow and The Canary made short work of the two would-be rapists, and the girl who had been cornered raced out of the alley with a shouted, “Thank you,” aimed behind her at the two. **_*5*_**

Green Arrow, finished with beating his target silly, let the man drop and turned as The Canary dropped her target with a well-placed blow with her bow staff. “ **Thought you decided to leave town,** ” he said.

“ _I did, but I heard the news and thought I should be here,_ ” The Canary said. “ _You missed a spot._ ” Without looking back, Green Arrow delivered a backwards kick to a rising man’s skull, knocking him out again. “ _Shouldn’t there be a thank you for saving your ass somewhere in there?_ ”

“ **Thanks,** ” Green Arrow said grudgingly. “ **Come on. We’ll go back to my base. We can talk more there.** ”

“ _Fine,_ ” The Canary said shortly, unaware of the trap that the Green Arrow was springing on her.

**_*DC*_ **

Oliver and Sara, his hood down and her wig and mask removed, entered the Bunker from the alley-side entrance that Oliver used to go out into the Glades, and Sara froze like a deer in the headlights when she saw Laurel sitting at a table, going over a rather thick file. Laurel, glancing up to check on Oliver and make sure he was okay, likewise froze as she spotted her younger sister. “Did I not mention that Laurel knows about me and was waiting back at my base?” Oliver asked in an innocent tone that fooled not one person in the Bunker. Thea, breaking briefly from her otherwise morose attitude, snickered at the glare Sara aimed at her brother’s back as he headed back to change.

“Sara,” Laurel said softly, standing and moving to face her little sister. Sara ducked her head down, as if ashamed to be in the same room as Laurel. The older sister approached the younger one, standing in front of her for a moment. Then Laurel grabbed Sara by the shoulders and pulled her into a warm, welcoming hug. Sara froze at first at the feel of her sister’s arms around her, then melted into her arms and hugged her back. Sara dug her face into her sister’s shoulder, closing her eyes and breathing in the scent of her sister’s perfume, a scent that brought tears of familiarity to her eyes. “It’s okay,” Laurel whispered, holding her sister close. “It’s fine. You’re home. You’re safe. You don’t need to be afraid, Sara. You’re home, you’re safe.”

Sara and Laurel were still caught in the midst of their bug when Oliver returned, now dressed in his own exercise gear. Oliver pulled Thea over to the training mats and began showing her the exercise using eskrima sticks. The solid thwack-thwack of the eskrima sticks beating against each other pulled Sara and Laurel’s attention from their reunion and to the training mats. Sara raised her eyebrows at the fact Oliver was teaching his little sister how to fight, while Laurel smiled softly at the sight, because there was a small, excited grin on Thea’s face. For the moment, at least, her mind was off of her mother’s suicide.

“Care to tell me what’s going on around here?” Sara asked Laurel.

“Sure,” Laurel said with a smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter.
> 
> And yep, Sara is back. I won’t say she’s back for good cuz I have a couple of ideas I might use for her that would see her leave again, but there’s the possibility it’s for good. We’ll see how things play out.
> 
> Chapter Notes:
> 
> *1* And we’re back to feeling like one needs a shower after writing a scene with Malcolm Merlyn plotting away. Hmmm… now how easy do people think it will be for Malcolm to control Oliver and get him to do what he wants? Consider all the factors carefully…
> 
> *2* In writing these sequences where Oliver was thinking of the impact of his mother’s death on the timeline if it remains mostly intact, I found there were a few other things Moira did that weren’t related to her children, but overall I stand by what I said last chapter. Overall, Moira Queen was not a good person. But she was an interesting character, and I’m going to miss writing her.
> 
> *3* I’m sure some people are surprised at the confrontation between Alex and Oliver, seeing as Alex isn’t a sister to anyone on Earth-1. The way I see it, she’s idealized the relationship and she’s reacting based on that.
> 
> *4* Some things are happening just a little bit earlier than they did in canon, which is good since I have something that I need Oliver to do and I need him doing it during either Episode 4 or Episode 5. We’ll see how things play out.
> 
> *5* After I put The Canary in a compromising position in “The Spectre”, I figured it was only fair I do the same with Green Arrow in this story.


	24. Clarity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I want to take a moment to acknowledge that this chapter represents a milestone for me in my skill as a writer. Why? Because for the first time ever, a story of mine has reached and exceeded 100,000 words. This is a huge thing for me, and I want to thank everyone who’s given me encouragement over the years, both on FFN and AO3.
> 
> As befitting a milestone chapter, there’s a game-changing event in this one.

While Oliver continued teaching Thea how to fight with the eskrima sticks, something that reminded Sara horribly of the training she had seen Oliver engage in with Slade on the island before that psychopath had turned on them, Laurel guided Sara to the table where she’d been working. “What’s all of this?” Sara asked, gesturing to the paperwork.

“A case Oliver brought me,” Laurel replied. “An innocent man is on death row, due to be executed in less than a week for the murder of his wife. But the evidence Oliver’s turned up indicates that Mrs. Declan was murdered because she was about to blow the whistle on Jason Brodeur. He’s been dumping toxic waste in the Glades, poisoning the people there.”

“What does this have to do with-” Sara began, but Laurel shook her head sharply, and Sara drew in her chin in consternation. “What?”

“We don’t talk about _him_ around Thea, and I don’t know if Oliver’s little techie knows about that just yet either,” Laurel said. “I only know because I pieced it together from stuff Oliver’s said since he came back, both as himself and as Green Arrow.”

“Okay,” Sara said slowly. “But what does this have to do with _him_? Why doesn’t Oliver just confront the bastard and cut his head off?” It seemed pretty straight forward to Sara. Malcolm Merlyn was the mastermind behind everything wrong in Starling City.

“You’d have to ask Oliver,” Laurel said. “I’m not too happy about it myself, but Oliver refuses to move against _him_ until certain circumstances are met. Oliver says that he’s drawing _him_ into a trap by slowly dismantling his plans. We don’t know what kind of impact the _Gambit_ being discovered, and Moira’s suicide, will have on everything, but Oliver’s intent on continuing to move forward with his plans.”

“I’ll definitely ask Oliver,” Sara said. “How’s Dad?”

“He’s doing better than he has been for a long time,” Laurel said honestly. “He spent most of the last five years at the bottom of a bottle, but he pulled himself out of it when I was kidnapped.”

“Kidnapped!?” Sara asked stridently. Oliver and Thea looked over in concern, but Laurel waved at them with a smile. Fyff was eyeing the blonde assassin in concern, wondering if he should play deaf.

“I guess Oliver never really got around to sharing the details of the past few weeks with you,” Laurel said dryly.

“I didn’t really give him a chance,” Sara said. “I know about what he’s facing, but I didn’t want to know any details, because I knew if I did, I would want to stay and I was afraid to do that after being with the League so long.”

Laurel filed away Sara’s comment about ‘the League’ to ask about later and said, “My ex-boss, Eric Gitter, was on the payroll of a man named Adam Hunt. I got too close to Hunt’s operations and he had me kidnapped. He’s done it before, based on what he said. You know that old trope about the mob and cement shoes?” Sara’s eyes widened. “Yeah. Same type of thing, just different way of doing it. I was on the docks, bound and gagged and facing my death, and then Oliver came out of nowhere. I didn’t know it was him, of course. He was wearing _that_ suit,” she said, pointing at the suit in question. “He took out the bodyguards so quickly, Hunt and Gitter didn’t have a chance to react. Long story short, Hunt and Gitter are behind bars, and I’ve got Gitter’s old job as the head of C.N.R.I., a legal aid office helping the less-fortunate of our city.”

“Damn,” Sara said softly. “I can’t imagine what it must’ve been like for you or Dad, going through that. Anything else I should know?”

“About a week later, the Triad tried to kill me because of an interview I gave Susan Williams,” Laurel said reluctantly. “Oliver took a knife to the shoulder from China White, but later on he pretty much destroyed the Triad’s operations in a single night.”

“She’s not wrong,” Fyff piped up from where he was sitting behind the computers. The Lance sisters turned in their seats to look at him. “Diggle, Mr. Queen’s bodyguard, actually asked him if it was just to safeguard you from the Triad. He said that while that was one of the goals, it was also to send a message to the rest of organized crime in the city that profited from peoples’ suffering and that everything he’s doing is to make the city a better safer place for everyone. He also said he was always going to be there for her since he’d already seen you die twice and had nightmares about it being Laurel.” Fyff stopped talking as he realized the Lance sisters were staring at him. “I have a really good memory,” he said sheepishly. “And Mr. Queen’s a bit of a mystery, so I remember everything he lets slip.”

“Huh,” Laurel said slowly. “I guess I should be flattered. I just hope Oliver won’t ever choose me over the city.” Oliver heard this and remembered a time when he had faced that choice, and he had chosen the city, stopping Slade’s army in the tunnel. He knew in his heart he would make the same choice again if he were forced to. He frowned as he realized that like with his mother, Felicity’s death had repercussions beyond the obvious. She had been integral to certain things, like getting the Mirakuru cure into Slade, and that wouldn’t happen now. “Thanks for the info, Henry.” She bestowed a small smile on the man before turning her attention back to Sara, who was staring at her. “What?”

“So, let me get this straight,” Sara said. “You get kidnapped by your ex-boss and the man who bought him and are nearly sent to a watery grave. You challenge the Triad on TV and get attacked in your apartment. Now, you’re going after a guy who had a woman murdered because she was going to blow the whistle on his toxic dumping in the Glades?” Laurel nodded. “Well, that explains why you and Ollie work so well together,” Sara said sarcastically. “Neither of you have a sense of self-preservation. He throws himself into danger every night against bad guys, and you throw yourself into danger challenging the most powerful, corrupt players that you can find.”

“We work well together,” Oliver called over from where he was still sparring with Thea.

“Ollie’s right,” Laurel said. “We both want the same things, and we’re both willing to do whatever it takes to make sure justice is done for the victims of these people. This is about more than just taking down the person responsible for all of the darkness in this city; it’s about giving the city _hope_ again, hope for a better tomorrow.”

Sara looked at her sister, then at Oliver, and wondered again if there was truly a place for her here.

Later, Laurel headed out, taking Thea with her, planning to drop her off at the loft. Sara had begged off staying the night on her sister’s couch, planning to head back to the clock tower. Fyff was currently tracking a man named Daniel Brickwell for Oliver, and Sara wondered what significance Brickwell had to the mission Oliver had set for himself. But now that Thea was gone, Sara had questions she needed answered. “Ollie, we need to talk,” she said seriously, catching his eye with hers.

Oliver nodded slowly, coming to join her at the now-clear table. “Henry, why don’t you join us?” he asked. “You’re going to need to know this now that you’re going to be here full-time. I was holding off on explanations to get an idea of whether Dig was going to stick around.”

“Guessing he decided not to,” Fyff said as he came to join the two.

“Dig sees things in black and white,” Oliver said. “Unfortunately, as much as I’d like it to be so, black and white isn’t how the world works. There are shades of gray that dictate how are lives are led.”

“So, why aren’t you just confronting Merlyn and killing him?” Sara asked.

“Because this is about more than just Malcolm Merlyn,” Oliver said. Fyff gasped as he heard their foe’s identity for the first time. Oliver glanced at Fyff for a moment before turning his attention back to Sara. “I know what you’re thinking. Cut off the head, and the body dies. But in this case, our foe is like the Greek hydra. I could kill Merlyn, only to face more serpents, some of which I might not even know the identity of, such as the other members of Tempest, his cabal of allies. I had hoped to use my mother to find out who the other members of Tempest are, since she was also a member since my father’s death, taking his place at Merlyn’s side.”

Oliver fell silent for a moment before continuing, “Starling City is dying, Sara. It is being poisoned by a criminal elite who don’t care who they hurt, so long as they maintain their wealth and power. Malcolm Merlyn may be the rotten tumor, but if you take the tumor out without cutting away the other tendrils, than the sickness will continue to spread. Tempest is every bit a cancerous tumor as Merlyn, and with him taken out, they would split among themselves, seeking to empower their own endeavors. Without discovering who they are, Starling City will never be truly free of the crime and corruption because the cancerous tumor would still exist, only it would’ve multiplied, like the heads of the Greek hydra. That is why I cannot take Merlyn down right away. I need to find out who the members of Tempest are, and I need to draw him into a confrontation where he feels confident that he’ll win. Confront him head-on, play my hand too early, and the city suffers for it.” **_*1*_**

Sara was silent as she absorbed what Oliver had said. She understood where he was coming from. Malcolm’s cabal would continue their master’s work, or perhaps devolve into in-fighting, posturing for power. Either way, the people of Starling City would lose. “So, what now?”

“Now, you decide what you’re going to do,” Oliver said. “You can help me, or you can find your own way to bring hope back to Starling City. What happened earlier tonight happens every night somewhere in the Glades. The city could always use another defender in the darkness.”

“Maybe,” Sara said. “I’ll have to give it some thought. In the meantime, I’m gonna head back to my little hideaway.”

“Don’t be a stranger,” Oliver said as they stood. He circled the table and pulled her into a hug. She returned it. “I’m glad you’re back, Sara. Truly, I am.”

“Thanks,” she said softly. Oliver turned around. “Ollie?” He turned back around his expression curious. “I know things are serious between you and Laurel now, but do-do you ever think about what we talked about on the island?”

“Not really,” Oliver said softly. “I did when we first talked about it, but then you were dead, again, and I had to keep myself focused on reasons to stay alive. Seeing my family again, seeing Laurel again, making peace with her if I could. Maybe if Laurel and I weren’t involved, we could have tried to make something happen. But I am with her, and I don’t see that changing this time. But if it does, well…” Oliver shrugged, not really believing it would change, and Sara could tell. She nodded silently, and two headed for the elevator. Fyff, of course, lived in the Bunker.

**_*DC*_ **

Walter Steele shot upright in bed, looking around wildly. Something had woken him up; something or someone was in the room with him. He could hear them breathing, soft as it was. “Who’s there?” he demanded to know. “If I shout, my security will be here in minutes.”

“ ** _Even if I had left any of your security alive before entering the mansion, they would never have made it in time,_** ” a harsh modulated voice said. A figure detached itself from the shadows. He was dressed all in black and wielded a bow and arrows, both black to match his outfit. Walter wondered briefly if the Green Arrow had changed up his uniform and other gear before feeling a thrill of fear go through him as he realized what the intruder had said. His security were dead if this man was to be believed. Moira had personally handled security, choosing former Special Forces soldiers almost exclusively.

“What do you want?” Walter asked.

“ ** _For you to resign as C.E.O. of Queen Consolidated,_** ” the archer said. “ ** _And before you speak, do remember that Cynthia has a lovely singing voice. It would be tragic if anything happened to change that._** ”

Walter felt dread form in the pit of his stomach. Cynthia was his younger sister, his only family. “Why do you care who is in charge of Queen Consolidated?”

“ ** _That is not your business, Mr. Steele,_** ” the archer replied. “ ** _I am offering you the opportunity to live a full life, with your loved ones safe. All you must do is resign._** ”

“I won’t,” Walter said resolutely. “Queen Consolidated needs stability to navigate this crisis and I will not leave it on Oliver’s shoulders to chart a course through these treacherous waters.”

“ ** _You misunderstand your position, Mr. Steele,_** ” the archer said. “ ** _This is not a negotiation. If you will not resign, than I will kill you and see your sister sold to human traffickers._** ”

“I don’t believe you,” Walter said. “I will not submit to intimidation tactics from a man who hides his face.”

The archer was silent for a moment. Then, a moment later, Walter felt a stabbing pain as an arrow blossomed in his right ribcage, punching through and piercing his lung. This was followed up by another arrow, this one piercing his left ribcage and lung. Finally, a third arrow blossomed in his chest, piercing his diaphragm. Walter fell back on the bed, choking on blood as it flooded his throat, hands shakily scrabbling at the arrows embedded in his chest. “ ** _Poor Cynthia,_** ” was the last thing Walter heard before darkness claimed him. **_*2*_**

**_*DC*_ **

Laurel was at C.N.R.I. early the next morning, holed up in her office as she prepared her case to present to the judge tomorrow (the earliest that Judge Moss would see her since it was about a case that had already run through it’s appeals) to provide Peter Declan a stay of execution. Oliver had expressed concerns as to whether Judge Moss would do so, citing that he heard she was a hard-liner that didn’t equate justice with the law. But Laurel had to do this by the book, and Judge Moss was still the judge on record for the Peter Declan case, which meant any motions had to be made to her. Laurel could only assume that Oliver was already making plans for if Moss proved unamenable (and she suspected those plans included searching for any signs of corruption in the judge to expose the way he had brought down the District Attorney). She looked up when she heard a knock at her door.

Standing in the doorway of her office was her father, looking uncomfortable. She waved him in. He glanced at the open file on her desk. “Hey, you look busy,” he said. “Is that the Declan case?” Laurel looked up at him, already suspecting what this visit was about. “You know, there was a funny development on that. Matt Istook, he, uh, filed a police report. He said the Green Arrow harassed him last night, tied him to the train rails. And that’s funny, because I gave my _daughter_ Istook’s name.”

“Dad,” Laurel began.

“He’s a _vigilante_ , and what’s more, he’s a murderer!” Quentin hissed. “He’s a damn criminal, and you working with him, that makes you an accessory.”

“I am _trying_ to save an innocent man’s life,” Laurel said, standing and facing her father with a stubborn set to her jaw.

“No, you’re breaking the law,” Quentin said, standing as well.

“Well,” Laurel said softly, meeting her father’s gaze with a fierce glare in her green eyes, “I wouldn’t have to, if the police would have done their job right in the first place.”

Quentin worked his jaw for a moment. “I asked you how you got this case,” he said, “and you lied to me, straight to my face. I thought we didn’t do that to each other.” His jaw clenched for a moment as he swallowed down the anger he was feeling and got to the real reason he had come here. “Laurel, I’m not the only one making the connections,” Quentin said. “You’ve made no secret that you’re Declan’s lawyer now, and the Green Arrow harassing Istook last night lets others know you’re working with him. I can’t protect you if you keep working with him.”

“I don’t _need_ your protection,” Laurel said. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have an argument to prep for Judge Moss.” Laurel returned to her desk. Quentin stared down at his daughter for a moment before turning on his heel and walking out, his heart aching because he knew where this was going, and he couldn’t do anything to stop it.

**_*DC*_ **

Agent Darius Trimble looked down at the body that had been dumped in Mericle Plaza, three black arrows sticking out of it. Walter Steele had been someone they intended to question further seeing as he had been married to Moira Queen. Trimble didn’t like this one bit. First, Felicity Smoak, a lowly I.T. agent from Queen Consolidated, is murdered by one of the most prolific serial killers currently on the loose while searching for clues as to what had precipitated the kidnapping of Oliver Queen and Thomas Merlyn almost four weeks ago. Second, the _Queen’s Gambit_ was discovered in a warehouse paid for by an LLC that Moira Queen had ‘invested’ Queen Consolidated funds in, an LLC that Smoak had uncovered before meeting her demise and informed Oliver Queen about, reporting to him over the C.E.O. of the company. Third, Moira Queen hangs herself in her cell rather than face questioning. Finally, Walter Steele is murdered and dumped in the Glades, in what could only be a mockery aimed at the Green Arrow.

There was something sinister at work in Starling City, and it stank of conspiracy. Someone didn’t want the F.B.I. to find out the truth about what had happened to the _Queen’s Gambit_ and was systematically cutting off all sources of information as quickly as they sprang up. That the only person who seemed to have any knowledge of this conspiracy was a goddamned vigilante was galling, because there was no way the Green Arrow was going to just pop by the station and sit down for an interview.

“Someone has got a serious hatred for the Queen family,” Alex Danvers said from beside Trimble, voice subdued. “Robert Queen, Moira Queen, now Robert Steele. Should we consider putting a protective detail on the Queen siblings, sir?”

“Definitely,” Trimble said briskly. “I’ll go see Oliver Queen myself. I want you to go to Berlanti Preparatory and get Thea Queen. I want those two in protective custody before afternoon.”

“Yes, sir,” Alex said, turning and heading for her car. Trimble examined the dump site one last time before signaling C.S.U. to do their thing, heading for his own car. He really hoped Oliver Queen was strong enough to deal with this.

**_*DC*_ **

Oliver looked up from the paperwork he was mulling over as his door opened and Agent Trimble entered, ignoring Gina’s protestations. “Mr. Queen, there’s been a serious development. I need you to come with me, now,” Trimble said. “Agent Danvers is already getting your sister. We’re placing the two of you in protective custody.”

“Agent Trimble, you can’t just barge in here and declare something like that,” Oliver said, standing and moving around the desk. “If this is as serious a development as you seem to think, I need to be here, to help Walter assure the board and our department heads.”

“I’m afraid Mr. Steele _is_ the serious development,” Trimble said. “He was found in Mericle Plaza with three black arrows sticking out of his chest. It _might_ just be a copycat of the Green Arrow, but there’s something about it that feels mocking, as though this was meant as a message for the Green Arrow as much as closing another avenue of investigation for my team.”

Oliver was silent for a moment before he turned and looked out at the city. Gina had gasped upon hearing the agent’s news and was making an odd mewling sound, trying desperately not to cry. “You think someone is targeting my family,” Oliver said flatly.

“I do,” Trimble said.

“Let me speak to Ned Foster, and then I’ll come with you,” Oliver said. “You can come with me to Ned’s office if you like.” Trimble nodded, and the two men left the office.

**_*DC*_ **

“Ollie!” Thea cried, red-eyed and blotchy, as Oliver walked through the door of the F.B.I. safehouse they’d been taken to. “Please tell me this isn’t happening! Please tell me this is just some crazy nightmare I’m having and I’m gonna wake up and both Mom and Walter are gonna be fine!”

Oliver took his sister in his arms and held her close. “I wish I could, Speedy,” Oliver said. “But they’re sure.” He found it ironic that, in another lifetime, he would have lied to his mother and sister about an F.B.I. contact of Dig’s telling him that Walter was confirmed to be dead, and yet in this lifetime where Walter had yet to truly test Merlyn, he had been killed. But what was Merlyn’s aim in killing Walter now? The investigation was already in motion, stunted as it was by the deaths of Felicity and his mother. He couldn’t stop it from happening. And was Merlyn going to come for he and Thea next, get rid of all the loose ends, as it were?

“Why is this _happening_?” Thea sobbed. Oliver could say nothing, knowing the F.B.I. had to have the room under surveillance. He hoped Thea wouldn’t say anything that would put him in the hot seat, but he couldn’t be sure, compromised as her emotions were. “What did we do, Ollie? What did we do to deserve this?” Again, Oliver could say nothing, only comfort his sister as best he could while also wonder how this would impact his efforts to protect the city as Green Arrow. He had understood the hidden message in Walter’s murder from the Dark Archer. Not only was Walter a member of the one percent, the type of person Oliver was targeting as Green Arrow, but he was an innocent. The message was that so long as Green Arrow pursued his vendetta, the Dark Archer would threaten innocents, and knowing Merlyn, they would be random so as to keep Oliver from being able to save them. **_*3*_**

Hours later, Thea was sleeping fitfully, while Oliver sat in an armchair, waiting for further news. There was a light knock on the door, then it opened, and Alex Danvers walked in. “How’s your sister?” Alex asked.

“What, you’re not recording our every word and every move?” Oliver asked with a raised eyebrow. Alex flushed. “Thought so,” Oliver murmured. “In short, this is getting to be one horrifying event after another for my sister. First, she’s targeted by China White because of the altercation I had with her in my girlfriend’s apartment a few weeks back. Then we lose our mother, then Walter. I had to stop comforting my sister to take a call from Ned Foster, the Chief of Operations for Queen Consolidated. QC stock was in freefall and the board is demanding that I take the position of C.E.O. to give our investors some reassurance. All in all, today is one shitty day for both my sister and I, and I really don’t want to tangle with you again over my life choices.”

“That was wrong of me, to go after you like that,” Alex said. “I’m sorry.” Oliver nodded, showing he accepted the apology. “This is only temporary. We don’t want this to interfere with your daily lives if there is no threat, so more than likely an agent will be assigned to you and your sister until we’re sure that there’s no threat against the two of you.”

“Thank you for telling me what to expect, Agent Danvers,” Oliver said. His phone buzzed. “Excuse me. Pretty sure this is my girlfriend.” Alex nodded and left the room. Oliver answered his phone, having seen the number and knowing it wasn’t actually Laurel calling. Why were the Bratva calling him _now_? “This isn’t the best time,” he said as he answered.

“We must meet, _captain_ ,” Leonov said on the other end. “There is threat to Bratva.” He ended the call. Oliver pocketed his phone. Dodging the F.B.I. to go meet with the Russian Bratva while the Dark Archer was potentially hunting for him and his sister? That was pretty much par for the course of his life these days. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter.
> 
> For those wondering, the game-changer is Walter being killed resulting in Oliver and Thea being taken into protective custody by the F.B.I. That’s gonna put a damper on Oliver’s illicit activities. Or will it?
> 
> Chapter Notes:
> 
> *1* A lot of people have been asking why Oliver doesn’t just kill Merlyn. I hope this scene helped explain why.
> 
> *2* I know some people wanted me to keep Walter around, but I had nothing for him. I don’t see Walter as a man who backs down easily (in fact, this is canonically true), so I don’t think he would give in to the Dark Archer’s demands.
> 
> *3* Poor Thea. She’s really been put through the emotional ringer. How much longer before she snaps under the pressure?


	25. The Top Job

Oliver had tossed and turned all night, haunted by the changes wrought on the timeline by the changes he had made, even unknowingly, and the next morning it was obvious that neither of the Queen siblings had slept well, both having bags under their eyes as they poked at the breakfast the F.B.I. had brought in from a nearby Denny’s (biscuits and gravy with a side of sausage). “What’s going to happen, Ollie?” Thea asked tentatively.

Oliver, who had been brooding over how to get away from the F.B.I. so that he could meet Alexi and the other members of the Bratva, looked up at his sister. “What do you mean, Speedy?”

“What’s going to happen to me?” The seventeen-year-old girl asked, looking very young and vulnerable as she looked at her brother beseechingly. “Mom and Walter are dead. I’m seventeen. Does this make you my guardian for the next few months?”

Oliver’s brain stalled out at this question. He hadn’t even _thought_ about the impact this would have on the matter of custody for his little sister, focused as he had been on the overall impact to what he remembered from the original timeline. By the time his mother had died in the last timeline, Thea was nineteen and had had a boyfriend who she had spent a good part of the summer living with at his home in the Glades, and when she came back after training with Malcolm she had purchased the loft and been the put-together sibling out of the two of them. But here and now, Thea was a seventeen-year-old girl who had just lost her mother and stepfather, and Oliver knew without even broaching the topic that emancipation wasn’t in the cards simply because of the emotional anguish his sister would be in for the coming weeks and months. She would need someone to keep an eye on her, make sure depression wasn’t overwhelming her.

“Ollie?” Thea asked worriedly.

“Sorry, Thea, you just made me realize there’s a lot more going on that I hadn’t considered,” Oliver said. “As far as I know, yes, this would make me your guardian, though we’d have to confirm it through the courts. I’m sure Laurel can help us out in that regard.” Thea nodded morosely. “With any luck, we’ll be able to resume our normal lives either today or tomorrow, albeit with an F.B.I. escort. You know if you need to talk, I’m here for you, right?” **_*1*_**

“I don’t know that,” Thea said. “I mean, sure, you’re teaching me how to defend myself, but we don’t _talk_. You’re always so busy with-with stuff from Queen Consolidated.” The unspoken _and your work as the Green Arrow_ hung in the air between the Queen siblings. “I know you’ve got a lot on your plate, Ollie, but I could really use my brother right now.”

Oliver closed his eyes for a moment. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I know it isn’t easy. And it’s not going to get much easier. The company needs me to be the C.E.O., give our investors some reassurance that the company will weather through this. There’s a lot that needs doing at Queen Consolidated.” Again, there was an unspoken message that his work as Green Arrow, when he could get away to handle it, would also take up a lot of time. “But I swear to you, Thea, I will make as much time as possible for you, even if it means I sleep less than I should. Nothing is more important to me than family.” _Which means I need to decide what to do about Emiko,_ Oliver thought grimly as he reached a hand across the table and took Thea’s slender hand in his own rough one. “I’m here for you, Thea. I’m here for you.”

“Thanks, Ollie,” Thea said thickly, tears streaming down her cheeks as relief overwhelmed her. She had been scared of facing all of this alone; in hindsight, she knew she was being foolish. She would always have Oliver, and so long as they were together, she would also have Laurel.

There was a knock on the door before Agents Trimble and Danvers entered. “Good morning Mr. Queen, Miss Queen,” Agent Trimble said. “I’m sorry we had to keep you here overnight but we wanted to be careful for the first twenty-four hours after Mr. Steele’s death, just in case someone planned to go after the two of you. While our agents saw no one suspicious hanging around, we’re still cautious and will be assigning an agent to each of you. While you’re working or at school, they’ll be doing other things, but when you’re at home, they’ll be there to protect you.”

Oliver quirked an eyebrow at this. “Who will be assigned to us?” he asked.

“Agent Teller will be trailing Miss Queen,” Trimble said, “while, despite your differences, I’ve decided to assign Agent Danvers to you since, aside from chasing the serial killer who targeted Miss Smoak, she has very few duties for the task force.”

“Task force?” Oliver echoed. This was new.

“Task force,” Trimble said with a nod. “I’ve been in contact with my superiors at both the Seattle field office and at Quantico. There is too much going on in Starling City that stinks of a conspiracy, and they’ve decided to create a special task force to delve into these matters. From Green Arrow to Tempest, it will be this task force’s job to uncover the truth. We’ll be receiving further agents this afternoon, flying in from Quantico.”

“That is… gratifying to hear,” Oliver said, his mind whirring as he tried to factor all of this in and apply it to his plans surrounding Merlyn and Tempest. “I, for one, will sleep better knowing so many people are taking an interest in what’s happening to my family. I just hope you find the answers that we all want.” Oliver turned to look at Alex. “I have to go to Queen Consolidated today to sign the contracts that will make me C.E.O., and then I have to hold a press conference afterwards. If someone were going to kill me, the conference would be an excellent opportunity.”

“I agree,” Alex said, her eyes narrowing suspiciously. How did he know that? A moment later, she felt foolish for her suspicions. A public event was the most obvious place for an assassination attempt, even a layman knew that thanks to it being popularized by television dramas and political thrillers. “I’ll make sure to have a couple of other agents tag along, just in case. We’ll coordinate with the security staff at Queen Consolidated.” Oliver nodded.

“Miss Queen, do you plan on going to school today?” Agent Trimble asked.

“No,” Thea said. “I was barely making it through after Mom died. I’m not going to be able to focus with everything that’s going on.” She looked at Oliver. “You’ll need to call and excuse me from classes until at least the funerals, Ollie.”

“I’m sure Headmaster Kreisberg will prove amenable,” Oliver said blandly. He didn’t particularly like the headmaster of Berlanti Preparatory, and not just because of the disciplinary issue. There was something _slimy_ about the headmaster, the way he acted around some students, that rubbed Oliver the wrong way. Not for the first time, Oliver wondered if there was more to Kreisberg than met the eye. “I’ll call him on the way to work. Don’t worry, Speedy.” Oliver turned to the agents. “I assume this means that Thea is welcome to return to the loft?” **_*2*_**

“She is, so long as she takes Agent Teller with her,” Trimble said.

**_*DC*_ **

Oliver flexed his cramped right hand experimentally. Ned Foster gave him a sympathetic smile. “Your father did that whenever he had to sign a lot of paperwork in one go,” Ned said quietly as the two men left the office of the Chief of Operations and headed for the elevator bank, where they would head to the ground floor for the press conference. “I noticed you were carefully reading over the contracts. Worried about something?”

“Dad once told me the Board could be a pit of vipers if they smelled blood in the water,” Oliver said. “I wanted to make sure they hadn’t slipped something in that would let them seize control of Queen Consolidated from me.”

“It’s not like they could even if you did do something they didn’t agree with,” Ned said. “You have full control of your family’s stock now that your mother’s passed on, and I know you’ve been buying up stock that people sold off with your mother’s suicide and now Walter’s murder. Even without that stock, you’re the majority shareholder.” Oliver nodded, thinking that this was another drastic alteration to the timeline as a result of one simple stone thrown into the pond, that being the discovery of the _Queen’s Gambit_.

In the original timeline, his mother had held the controlling interest of QC stock until her arrest, at which point it had been put into escrow and sold off slowly, which had resulted in Isabel Rochev gaining the foothold that she had had. But here, his mother’s shares passed onto him, as stipulated in her will, which had went into effect as soon as she was declared dead. With it, he controlled Queen Consolidated without any potential for being pulled down, especially since he had made sure his C.E.O. contract didn’t include any stipulations from the Board that would allow them to seize control of the company from him. **_*3*_**

Oliver gave a deep breath, releasing it slowly as the elevator descended towards the lobby. “You’re going to do fine, Oliver,” Ned said. Oliver nodded silently, mentally going over what he wanted to say as the numbers on the digital display inside of the elevator dwindled towards one. Barely a minute after leaving the top floors of Queen Consolidated, Oliver and Ned were stepping off of the elevator and into the lobby. Oliver focused his attention again on what he wanted to say, having learned to ignore the crowd of reporters during his time as Mayor of Star City. Oliver and Ned mounted the dais that had been set up, and Oliver stood off to the side as Ned took to the podium.

“Thank you all for coming here today,” Ned said. “Queen Consolidated has seen a moment of double tragedy in the past three days. We’ve seen the suicide of one former C.E.O. and the murder of another, in the midst of the discovery of the remains of the _Queen’s Gambit_ , which according to the F.B.I. showed signs of sabotage, which leaves us with the inescapable reality that Robert Queen was also murdered. As a result of this, Queen Consolidated is in turmoil and our investors are wondering if they should pull out. I’m here today to introduce the new C.E.O. of Queen Consolidated, though he needs no introduction. Taking his rightful place as the head of Queen Consolidated is Mr. Oliver Queen, who has prepared a few remarks for this occasion.” Ned stepped back, allowing Oliver to step up to the podium. As he did so, he noticed a few familiar faces in the crowd behind the press corps. Tommy Merlyn and Laurel Lance were standing and watching, Tommy looking gobsmacked and Laurel beaming at him. He could barely make out Sara Lance, a Rockets cap pulled low over her face, standing near a potted fern. Nearer the back was Barry Allen and a man Oliver assumed must be Henry Allen; the younger of the two looked shocked. Oliver felt bolstered having so many of his friends present. 

“Thank you, Ned,” he said. “And as Ned said, thank you all for coming. Queen Consolidated is facing a dark and uncertain future. There can be no denying this. We have been informed my father was likely murdered; my mother has committed suicide, presumably to hide information surrounding that revelation; and my stepfather has just been murdered. Two successive C.E.O.s have been murdered and another has committed suicide rather than be questioned. Our investors are panicking. How can they know Queen Consolidated will be safe for them and their investments?

“I’m here today to answer that question. The answer is that there is no guarantee. The future is dark and uncertain, like a black road at midnight. Only by forging ahead will we discover what that future brings. But Queen Consolidated is not without beacons of hope. I have personally begun redirecting the efforts of our Applied Sciences Division to focus on the development of technologies that will help the most people. As C.E.O. of Queen Consolidated, I intend to refocus the entirety of my family’s company towards helping the people of this city. It is why, as one of my first acts as C.E.O., I am intending to re-open the Queen Consolidated steel factory and bring desperately needed jobs to our community.” Whispers broke out at that and there were a few shouted questions that were indistinct. Oliver raised a hand for silence then pointed at one reporter, Susan Williams.

“Mr. Queen, your father once promised to the workers at the steel factory that it would never close, and yet he broke faith with them and did precisely that,” Susan said. “What assurances do the people of Starling City have that you will not break faith with them as your father once did?”

“Thank you for asking such a pertinent question, Miss Williams,” Oliver said. “And the short answer is that I am not my father. For five years, I lived day by day, never knowing if I would eat that day or if I would starve for a few days at a time. I suffered through harsh winters and the knowledge that nothing I had done would be remembered, or if it was, it would be as the childish playboy that the paparazzi loved to write stories about.

“What I can promise the people of Starling City is that I will fulfill my obligations to them. I am not my father. I want to see our city once more become the beacon of hope it was in my youth, a place where our children could play in the streets without the fear of vanishing, where women could walk down our streets and be comforted in the knowledge that they were safe. Economic stability brings with it social stability, and with social stability comes my vision for what this city could be. I will not betray the people of Starling City. But don’t take my word for it. Let my _actions_ provide the proof of my intent. No more questions, please.” Oliver stepped away from the dais and nodded at a beaming Ned. This was precisely what Ned had hoped for and what Oliver had wanted to deliver: a statement of strength and hope for not only Queen Consolidated and it’s investors, but for the city he loved.

**_*DC*_ **

Oliver entered the C.E.O.’s office, _his_ office, slowly. The Executive Assistant had already packed away Walter’s things to be sent away to his next of kin, a sister named Cynthia if Walter remembered correctly, and took a moment to take it in. The last time he had been in this office as it’s true occupant, he had been talking about a matter of the board with Rochev and unknowingly signing away his status as C.E.O., playing right into the hands of Slade Wilson and losing the company his family had built over two generations. _Not this time,_ Oliver thought to himself. _This time, I will not destroy my family’s legacy but make it stronger. ***4***_

Oliver was pulled from his thoughts at a light knock at the door. He turned and found two people waiting on the other side: Laurel and Barry, who were giving each other confused looks before turning to look at him. He waved them in. “It was nice to see you both downstairs,” Oliver said. “Laurel, this is Barry Allen, one of the people I recruited for Queen Consolidated’s Applied Sciences Division in Central City. Barry Allen, this is my girlfriend, Laurel Lance. She’s the head of C.N.R.I., a legal aid office providing legal counsel to those who live in the Glades.”

“Nice to meet you,” Laurel said, shaking Barry’s hand.

“You, too,” Barry said before turning to look at Oliver. “So, uh, that position still available?”

“I’m still in the midst of cleaning house in Applied Sciences, but yes, I want you as part of my team here at Queen Consolidated,” Oliver said. He waved his new Executive Assistant, Mark Snow, in. Snow, a balding, gangly man, entered. “Mark, please take Mr. Allen down to Applied Sciences and make sure he’s given a tour of the facilities he’ll be using until the new division headquarters is built.”

“Right away, Mr. Queen,” Mark said. “And you received a call from Malcolm Merlyn. He wants to arrange a meeting between the two of you at your earliest convenience.”

“I’ll give him a call,” Oliver said. “Thank you, Mark.” He turned to Barry. “Go with Mark, get a feel for the building and the people. And try not to let them intimidate you. If they do, just name-drop me and the fact I recruited you. Should keep the likes of Miller off your back knowing you’re a personal recruit of mine now that I control their paychecks.” Barry grinned at that and nodded, following Mark out of the office. Oliver turned and gathered Laurel in his arms, giving her a deep kiss, one hand brushing her cheek and coming to rest on her shoulder. He pulled away reluctantly.

“What was that for?” Laurel asked, looking flushed.

“I’ve been wanting to do that since last night,” Oliver said. “Didn’t realize how much our nightly sessions have meant to me until they were taken away. And I wanted to thank you for being here. I know you’ve got the argument with Moss coming up and need to be as prepared as possible. It means a lot to me that you took the time to come and support me.”

“You’re the man that I love, Ollie, of course I’m going to come and support you when you’re taking such a big step,” Laurel said, reaching up and tenderly brushing her left hand across his stubbled jaw. “What do you think Merlyn wanted?”

“It’s possible he just wants to offer me advice now that I’m the C.E.O. of Queen Consolidated and he has two decades of being such under his belt,” Oliver said. “He may just want to impart his wisdom on me since Tommy’s still trying to hold out on joining Merlyn Global. But it’s possible he has some other nefarious purpose in mind.” Oliver didn’t vocalize it, but he had his suspicions that Merlyn wanted to exert his control over Oliver and, through him, Queen Consolidated and it’s Applied Sciences division. This might even lead to Oliver gaining membership in Tempest itself, offering him unprecedented access to the true rot at the center of Starling City’s social elite. “Whatever it is, I can handle it.” Oliver turned and moved to the window, looking out at the city, Laurel joining him and threading one of her hands through his. “It’s ironic,” Oliver said softly. “Five years ago, I wanted nothing to do with the company and was doing my best to be someone that my father would never entrust with his legacy. And yet now here I am, the C.E.O. of Queen Consolidated, intent on seeing the company through these treacherous waters.”

“You’ve grown up, Ollie,” Laurel said softly, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “We both have. We’re not who we were five years ago, either of us. I never expected to be the head of any kind of law office before I was thirty, yet I’m now the head of C.N.R.I. Our choices define who we are as much as our morality, and I think both your parents would be proud of the man you’ve become. You’re better than them, which would’ve meant the world for Moira, at least. She always wanted better for you and Thea.”

“I know,” Oliver said. “I should probably let you get back to work. You’ve got that appointment with Moss. I’ve already got Fyff digging into her.”

Laurel’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What are you up to, Ollie?”

“Just seeing about greasing the wheels of justice,” Oliver said smoothly. Laurel’s eyes narrowed further. Oliver simply smiled at his girlfriend. She shook her head at him and reminded herself that the system wasn’t perfect; everything she had been through recently had let her see that, especially her father telling her about the pact between the police and the organized crime syndicates. If whatever Oliver was up to with Fyff saw Peter Declan freed, or at least the execution stayed, than it was for the best. She smiled bitterly as she realized how different she was from how she had been only three weeks ago. “What is it, Laurel?” Oliver asked.

“Just thinking about whether I would’ve been as open to this three weeks ago as I am now,” Laurel said, shaking her head. “Things have really changed since you got back.” She gave his hand another squeeze, one last quick smile, and then she was heading for the door.

 _You have no idea,_ Oliver thought as he watched her leave his office, before turning back to the cityscape, his blue eyes drifting towards the dominating skyscraper that was Merlyn Global. _What do you want with me, Merlyn?_

**_*DC*_ **

Judge Rachel Moss glanced suspiciously at her cell phone, which was ringing and the Caller ID read ‘Blocked’. After a moment, she answered. “Judge Moss,” she said briskly.

“Good afternoon, Judge Moss,” said a man’s voice in a pleasant tone. “You don’t know me, but I know quite a bit about you. I know how you’ve accepted bribes to look the other way on matters of public interest, matters that you certainly don’t want seeing the light of day. Like, for example, the fact that you are fully aware of Jason Brodeur’s dumping of toxic waste in the Glades. A little fact that you failed to acknowledge while serving as the trial judge for the case against Peter Declan. Which, incidentally, is what I’m calling to talk to you about. In less than an hour, Laurel Lance will be appearing before you with an appeal to stay Declan’s execution as a result of a report that has been uncovered, a file compiled by Camille Declan before her murder that details Brodeur’s illegal actions. You are going to accept this new evidence and stay the execution until it can be fully investigated by the Starling City Police Department.”

“And if I refuse?” Moss asked.

“Your corruption will be exposed,” the man on the other end of the line said smugly. “Your reputation will be in tatters, you probably won’t survive the scandal, and in the end, Peter Declan’s execution will be stayed anyways while the F.B.I., which have a strong presence in Starling at the moment, investigate evidence of corruption at the highest levels of the Starling City justice system. Either way, what my employer wants to happen _will_ happen. But only one of these options offers you the chance to save yourself and your career. Choose wisely, Judge Moss.” A click signaled the end of the call, and Judge Moss was left in a quandary.

Did she save Brodeur or herself? **_*5*_**

**_*DC*_ **

Oliver ducked into the garage that served as the front for the Bratva after having used the window of opportunity where he wasn’t guarded at Queen Consolidated to slip away and found two of the men waiting for him. They fell into step behind him as he made his way to the lower level of the basement, where he found the remaining members of the Starling City chapter of the Bratva waiting for him. Over forty men sat around the room, and Leonov, now one-handed and ever-glowering, sat in the center like a fat and conniving spider, albeit one who had lost its venom thanks to the actions of Anatoli Knyasev. “What’s happening?” Oliver asked, wasting no time with pleasantries.

“One of our men was killed while speaking to lawyer about forming private security firm, one of suggestions Pakhan left behind,” Alexi said. “Danakov. Good man. Strong man. Not easily taken. Shot from behind by an automatic.”

 _Helena,_ Oliver thought to himself. With the Triad out of business, she would have to turn to the only other major crime family in the city. Next, she would target people from her father’s organization and then return to targeting the Bratva, slowly pitting the two crime syndicates against each other. “Any leads?” he asked aloud.

“None,” Alexi said. “We were hoping Kapushion could look into it. We cannot expand to legitimate enterprises if we are targeted.”

“I understand,” Oliver said. “You have my word that I’ll look into it. But why couldn’t you just tell me this over the phone?”

“Because you must remember we are a brotherhood, _Mr. Queen,_ ” Alexi sneered. “What affects us affects you. Sitting in that lofty tower, perhaps you forget your oaths. Poor choice when Pakhan has vouched for you so viciously.” He raised his stump of a wrist for emphasis. “You are involved in our world whether you wish to be or not. You wish us to do as you say? Then you must show us that you shall fight for us as you fight for the poor and the victimized.”

“Which reminds me,” Oliver said idly. “You’ve shut down all our operations tied to human trafficking?”

“Yes, as directed,” Alexi said sourly. He had pleasured himself with more than a few girls, helping to break them before sending them home to Russia to be further trained.

“Good,” Oliver said. “Begin dialing back our drug operations next; reach out to the street gangs and begin negotiating to off-load those operations to those more inclined towards them.” Alexi nodded sharply. “Anything else you need to discuss while I am here?” Oliver asked.

“No,” Alexi said. Oliver nodded and turned to leave. “I question, though,” Alexi said, forcing Oliver to turn around and meet his fierce, questioning gaze, “what will happen should you ever be forced to choose between Bratva and Kapushion? Will your oaths hold you? Or will I be directed to act against you from a betrayed Pakhan?” **_*6*_**

“I guess we’ll see,” Oliver said softly, turning and leaving before Alexi could say another word. It wasn’t like he could say it would never happen. Anatoli hadn’t been able to keep up his promises of turning the Bratva around in the original timeline, and Oliver had been forced to choose between doing the right thing for Star City and his relationship with Anatoli. If he were ever forced into that situation again, he knew that his choice would be the same.

Queen Consolidated. The Bratva. A.R.G.U.S. The League of Assassins. Perhaps Tempest if what he thought Merlyn’s desires for arranging a meeting with him was about rang true. In the end, no matter his other commitments, the only thing that mattered was safeguarding his city. The city and his mission _had_ to come first, above all other obligations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter.
> 
> Chapter Notes:
> 
> *1* This is my attempt at giving a nod to the comics, where the heroes’ sidekicks tend to end up being their wards, someone they have guardianship over (i.e., Robin). Even though it’ll only be for a few months, it is realistic that Oliver would gain custody of Thea with their mother and Walter dead, especially if Thea wasn’t in the right place mentally to be emancipated. To be emancipated, you have to show a level of maturity that Thea, at seventeen, simply didn’t possess, though she’s beginning to move in that direction with her involvement in Oliver’s crusade, minimal as it is.
> 
> *2* This is obviously a reference to Andrew Kreisberg, one of the original showrunners of “Arrow”, who was fired from Berlanti Productions during the beginning of the #MeToo movement and complaints about him were revealed. My only regret is no one paid attention to the assistant of Guggenheim who said MG treated women poorly.
> 
> *3* This is my explanation for how Rochev got fifty percent of the stock of Queen Consolidated, because there’s no way that the founding family of the company wouldn’t have had the majority of the stocks. Combined with Oliver quickly buying up the stock from those abandoning QC after Moira and Walter’s deaths, and it confirms him as the majority shareholder, giving him complete control over the company and thus cutting off one avenue of attack for Slade Wilson.
> 
> *4* Most people (read: Olicity fans who squealed at the fucking ‘first day fern’) seem to forget that at the end of Season 2, Oliver very strongly wanted to get his family’s company back. Like so many other things, this was thrown out the window with the re-piloting in 3x01. Fuck Guggenheim, I spit in his eye.
> 
> *5* I love putting corrupt public officials in the hot seat in this story, don’t I? Oh, well. We’ll see if she’s more amenable than the District Attorney was.
> 
> *6* As much as I love the relationship between Oliver and Anatoli, I think that this relationship is doomed if I take Oliver towards his comic self (and hence let him be the hero the city both needs and deserves). He can only walk between two worlds for so long before he has to make a choice, as Slade said in 6x01. Eventually, he will face the choice between Bratva and Green Arrow, and we all know that’s no choice at all.


	26. Rectification

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Sorry it’s been a few days. I’ve been wrestling with whether I wanted to do another version of “The Emerald Queen” or go back to an old favorite. I chose the latter. Hopefully, now I’ve got that settled, things can return to normal service. It’s not like I have anything better to do. Only so much time you can spend playing an MMO, even a “Star Wars” MMO, before one get’s bored.
> 
> Now, speaking of which, I’ve got to bet back to crafting this sadistic Imperial Agent of mine, so I’ll let you all get on with reading the new chapter. *grins*

“So, Mr. Queen, where did you go?” Alex Danvers asked as Oliver stepped into his office, freezing in place as he saw her leaning against his desk. “You do remember I’m assigned to you for your protection, don’t you? We still don’t know if someone is going to target you and your sister.”

“Must’ve slipped my mind,” Oliver said blandly. “And I just went for a drive to clear my head.”

“A drive _where_?” Alex asked.

“I went to the Glades to take a look at the steel factory, get an idea of what I need to do to bring it back to life,” Oliver said. “It’s gonna take a lot of work. It’s in a serious state of disrepair and the entire building will have to be rewired.” He remembered how Tommy had bribed the city inspector to ignore the basement once Verdant opened and had used the excuse that the basement wasn’t up to code when Quentin and Hilton came calling; Oliver still regretted treating his friend with such suspicion as he had. “You could say I’m a bit more hands-on than my father was. I intend to visit every department of Queen Consolidated and familiarize myself with all of their work.”

“Right,” Alex said after a moment. “Well, just try to remember that I _am_ here for your protection, Mr. Queen. I’ll be down in the lobby when you’re ready to head home.”

“Of course, Agent Danvers,” Oliver said smoothly, already figuring out the best way he could get out of the building. Alex scoffed and exited the office while Oliver sat down behind his desk, drumming his fingertips on its flat surface. Green Arrow had been off the streets for a few days now, while he dealt with the aftermath of his mother’s suicide and now Walter’s murder. He needed to get back out there, make up for his screw-up the night Sara returned. He knew it was risky, with the F.B.I. in town and looking into Green Arrow with a new task force, but he couldn’t just sit by and let them handle things. This was _his city_ , and he would be damned if he let people who weren’t invested in it’s future decide it’s fate.

Oliver checked his messages. There was a message from Malcolm, asking him to call him when he got a chance; that meant for now Merlyn was going to play the ‘mentor’ card. He wouldn’t be talking about the Undertaking and Tempest on an open line, especially since the F.B.I. were likely going to be monitoring any and all calls that Oliver received in case a threat came in. There was also a call from Dr. Anne Green, reminding Oliver that they had an appointment tomorrow morning and that he had already missed two appointments they had scheduled. Oliver grimaced, but considering how off his game he had been the other night, maybe it was time to fulfill what would now be his mother’s dying wish and get help in therapy. At least now he knew his secrets wouldn’t be shared with his mother, and through her with Malcolm. He hated himself for thinking it the moment after it crossed his mind, however true it was. She had been his _mother_!

Oliver picked up his phone and dialed Merlyn’s personal cell, the number of which he had provided in his message. It was time to at least get the ball rolling on things with Merlyn, however they ended up playing out. After a few rings, Merlyn picked up. “Oliver,” Merlyn greeted. “I’m glad you called. Let me begin by again offering my condolences, for both Moira and Walter. They were good friends.”

“Thank you, Malcolm,” Oliver said pleasantly, keeping up the pretense that his godfather was not a murderous psychopath who had driven his mother to suicide and murdered his stepfather. “I assume you wanted to talk to me about something?”

“Yes, I wanted to offer my guidance as you step down this treacherous path,” Merlyn replied. “Being a C.E.O. has many dangers and pitfalls. Normally, your father or mother would’ve been there to guide you as you took these first steps. As your godfather, it’s my sworn duty to fill their shoes when they can’t be here.”

“I appreciate the offer, Malcolm, and I would be open to getting advice from a man with over twenty years of experience,” Oliver said.

“I caught the press conference earlier,” Malcolm said. “You have your father’s charisma and your mother’s way with words. Truly inspiring, Oliver. But do you truly think it wise to re-open the steel factory?”

“It won’t happen right away,” Oliver replied. “I went down there this afternoon; it was why I was out of the office when you called. I wanted to get an idea of what was needed. It’ll take months to bring the factory back up to code and ready to open for business. But just the promise of much-needed jobs can have an impact on people, I think. This city needs something to pull it back from the brink. Maybe it’s this, or maybe it’s something else. All I know is that I have to try to do _something_.” He allowed some of the frustration he was feeling to leak into his voice, letting Merlyn conclude he might be pliable and feeling dirty as he did it. Was this truly the best way to save Starling City? Play games with a psychopath like Malcolm Merlyn?

Malcolm was silent as he considered Oliver’s words, then said, “All I’m saying is it might be too ambitious a step for a newly-minted C.E.O. If this is truly what you wish to do, I’ll support you one hundred percent. It’s what your parents would’ve wanted. Feel free to call me any time that you need advice.”

“I will,” Oliver confirmed, and the two said their goodbyes. After hanging up, Oliver couldn’t help the shudder of revulsion that passed through him. In the past, he would’ve been able to handle that conversation without feeling this way. What had changed? Almost instantly, Oliver knew what had changed. _He_ had. While he was still very much a man for whom the mission came first, he had found himself building a new family for himself here in the past, a family that included the woman that he loved and the sister that he cherished. He had also been building a reputation for himself, one that risked being tarnished if he continued to play games with Merlyn just to find out who the other members of Tempest were. Maybe it was time to dig into his memories again, see if he couldn’t find _something_ that pointed to another member of Tempest, someone he could twist and exploit to discover the identities of the rest. **_*1*_**

But that would have to come later. He needed to find out if Moss had capitulated to Fyff’s demands or if he was going to have to make a choice between going after Brodeur or going to Iron Heights to save the lives of Declan and Laurel. He couldn’t do both; he had barely made it in time to save Laurel and Declan the last time. If only there was a way to do both…

Oliver started. There _was_ a way. There was someone else in Starling with the skills to intervene, someone who had learned to be a shadow, someone who had been trained to slip in and out of prisons without leaving a trace, only feared whispers. He had a stop to make before he hit his lair tonight. It was time to see about bringing Sara Lance down off of the fence in the war for Starling’s soul.

But first, he needed to call Laurel, find out the situation with Moss.

**_*DC*_ **

As it turned out, Moss had capitulated and even done one better, moving Declan into protective custody at Iron Heights. The process would be a little slower than it had been in the previous timeline since they were taking this route, but in the end, the result would be the same, and Peter Declan would be a free man while Ankov went down for the murder of Camille Declan and Brodeur faced justice for dumping toxic chemicals in the Glades. Oliver had managed to once more slip away from Agent Danvers, knowing that this would probably be the last time she let him out of her sight at Queen Consolidated, and made his way to the Bunker. “Good work today with Moss, Henry,” Oliver congratulated Fyff as he entered the Bunker, moving to the stand where his uniform waited, shedding his suit jacket and undoing his tie. “Once Peter Declan is free and clear, send the intelligence we gathered on her to Agent Trimble. That should occupy his task force for a while.”

“We’re gonna get a reputation if we do that to every corrupt official,” Fyff warned.

“A good reputation,” Oliver returned. “The less corrupt officials on the bench, the better for Starling.” Oliver undid the cuffs of his shirt and began unbuttoning the front. “Now that the Brodeur issue is dealt with, it’s time to move forward on something I’ve been holding back on for far too long. Bring up all the intel we have on Daniel Brickwell’s location, it’s fortifications, and how many men he has with him. It’s time to get justice for Rebecca Merlyn.”

“On it, boss,” Fyff said as Oliver continued shedding his clothes and got dressed in his uniform. Oliver held off on choosing his arsenal of arrows until he knew what he would be facing. Zipping up the top half of his uniform, Oliver joined Fyff at the computers as the man pulled up the intel they had on Brick and his headquarters in the Glades. According to what they had, Brick was operating out of a warehouse in the Glades, and it was consistently guarded by roughly fifteen men with automatics.

Oliver went to his array of arrows and began selecting explosive arrows, bolo arrows, and a handful of tranquilizer arrows. Sliding his chosen arsenal into his quiver and mounting a few basic arrows the flechette around his left forearm, Oliver pulled up his hood, turning to Fyff. “While I’m out, see if you can backtrack the person who shot Danakov to their hideout; find out their identity if you can.”

“Will do, boss,” Fyff said as Oliver headed out. 

**_*DC*_ **

Laurel Lance sighed as she sank onto her couch, feeling older than her twenty-seven years. She had just come from the loft, where she had been visiting Thea, and where Alex Danvers had showed up just as she was leaving, looking steamed. Laurel assumed Oliver had given the agent the slip, and shook her head now, laughing softly. He wasn’t going to earn any friends with the F.B.I. if he kept giving them the slip, but she knew that for him, the city had to come first.

Laurel pulled her phone out of her pocket and checked for any messages. There was a text from Joanna, telling her that they had received confirmation that Peter Declan had been moved into protective custody. Jason Brodeur’s assets had been frozen for the duration of the investigation, leaving the man incapable of buying off the guards that were set to watch Declan. Laurel was happy that this was going so well, but she was very suspicious of the fact that Moss had caved. She had expected to have to argue a lot more with the judge and that maybe even that might not work, despite her hopes to the contrary. And yet, it had worked. The judge had granted protective custody to Declan and allowed the S.C.P.D. to open an investigation into the file and its contents, which would inevitably lead to Peter Declan’s freedom.

But despite the recent victories, Laurel felt there was something off about everything. She knew Oliver had had something to do with Moss capitulating, and she had a sneaking suspicion that blackmail was involved. While she had accepted a lot of what Oliver was doing, she drew the line at blackmail, and she was going to have to talk to him about it. She knew he wanted Green Arrow to be a symbol of hope, but if people found out Green Arrow was resorting to blackmail, she had to ask herself how many of them would be accepting of this. While Oliver had tried the same thing with the District Attorney, that hadn’t been one of _Laurel’s_ cases; they hadn’t even been working together yet. This was the first time since they started working together that Oliver had done something so underhanded, and it made Laurel question just who her boyfriend was now. **_*2*_**

There was a soft knock on the door of her apartment. Laurel stood and made her way to the door, opening it to find her sister on the other side, dressed in dark-toned street clothes. “Sara, come in,” she said softly, stepping to the side and pulling the door open wider. Sara stepped inside, and Laurel shut the door behind her. “What brings you by?”

“I needed to see you,” Sara said. “Right now, it’s just me where I’m living, and the solitude is getting to me. You and Ollie are the only ones who know I’m in Starling right now, and I really don’t want to see Ollie right now. I get this feeling he’s gonna keep trying to pull me into this crusade of his.”

“He has that effect,” Laurel said as the sisters took seats on the couch, each tucking one leg under the other. Laurel brushed a lock of her hair over her right ear, clearing it away from her eyes. “Truth is, he probably wants a partner who can be his equal in this. He’s training me and Thea, but I get the impression it’s just so we can defend ourselves if Merlyn ever tries anything. I doubt he wants us in the field with him.”

“Would you even _want_ to do that if it was an option?” Sara asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I… don’t know,” Laurel said softly. “On the one hand, I want that future he spoke about in his message to the city, and I wonder if to get that future I’ll have to go beyond what I’m comfortable with. But on the other, I worry that I would lose myself if I stepped away from the bounds of the law so brazenly and became a vigilante myself.” Laurel scoffed to herself. “I don’t even know why I’m thinking about things like this. I’m not you or Oliver. I don’t know how to take on a dozen men armed with automatics and come out on top. I can barely handle intruders in my apartment.”

Sara was surprised at the degree of self-doubt her sister was struggling with. Laurel had always been so confident, so sure of herself in the past, that to see her doubting herself, even if it was something as wild as her ability to be a vigilante in comparison to Oliver or Sara, was startling. “There’s something else, isn’t there?” she said softly.

Laurel blinked in surprise; Sara didn’t used to be so intuitive. “The case we’ve been working on, Peter Declan,” Laurel began, “I had a meeting with the judge this afternoon and she did everything I wanted. She gave him protective custody, opened an investigation into the file, froze Brodeur’s assets while the investigation is ongoing…”

“So, what’s the problem?” Sara asked, puzzled. She would’ve thought Laurel would be thrilled for everything to be going right.

“I’m pretty sure Oliver blackmailed her,” Laurel said. “I know that technically he’s a criminal, but until now he’s only done things that help people in the long run. Even when he killed James Holder, he was doing it because otherwise more lives could’ve been lost. But this feels _different_ to me; I feel like this victory is tainted somehow.”

Sara sighed. That was one of the biggest problems her older sister had. She was too much like their father. “Okay, let’s run this through,” Sara said. “Say Ollie what you think. Take that away. What happens?”

Laurel considered it for a moment. “Brodeur came in while I was talking to the judge. I would’ve confronted him, told him I would keep digging even if the judge refused to accept the new evidence.”

“Then?” Sara prompted.

“Brodeur would probably have Declan killed, probably me, too,” Laurel said, thinking it over. Brodeur would know she would be incensed her client was killed and make it her mission to bring him down. One thing her current high profile had made clear was that she was a crusader. He would know that, and plan accordingly. “Oliver would’ve had to beat a confession out of him.”

“So, in the end, does taking the high road benefit the innocent, or not?” Sara asked knowingly.

Laurel sighed. “I understand what you’re saying, Sara,” she said. “It’s just not what I expected when I started working with Oliver.” She shook her head, as if to clear her thoughts, and looked at her sister. “So, why is it you don’t want to help Ollie?”

Sara sighed. “For the past five years, my life hasn’t been my own,” she said. “My first year, I was a ‘research assistant’. My second year, I was caught between Ivo and Ollie. The past three years, I’ve been told to go and kill someone and expected to do so without asking questions. I’m not saying I don’t want to help people, Laurel. But I don’t know if Ollie’s crusade is the best way for me to help people. All I know in combat is how to kill, and Oliver’s crusade prohibits that. I don’t think I can change.”

“Sometimes the only thing that stands in the way of change is our own hubris,” Laurel said softly. “You’ve convinced yourself that you’re a monster. What if you started telling yourself something different? What if you started telling yourself that you could use the tools that made you into an assassin for better purposes? If you don’t feel like you can commit to Ollie’s crusade, don’t. There are other ways to help people. Every night he works on taking down someone who’s entrenched, he’s not able to patrol, and criminals take advantage of that. Maybe you can patrol the Glades, a different part every night, and make the people feel safe that way. Just think about it, Sara.”

“I will,” Sara promised.

Before either sister could say another word, there was a knock at the door. Sara froze where she sat, eyes wide like a deer caught in the headlights. Laurel made a snap decision. “The bedroom,” she said quietly but firmly. Sara nodded and moved into the bedroom, secreting herself out of sight as Laurel went to the door and answered it. “Dad,” she said in surprise. Since his visit to her office at C.N.R.I. yesterday, he had been avoiding her like the plague.

“Can I come in?” he asked uncomfortably.

“Sure,” Laurel said after a moment. She couldn’t really tell him now wasn’t a good time without an explanation. He would expect her to have one; and, in truth, she hoped being in the same vicinity as their father would help Sara come to terms with the fact that she was _home_ , and that it was alright to come out of the shadows and _live_ again, instead of hiding away wherever she was living. Laurel had this horrible thought that her sister was roughing it in the Glades while she slept in the safety of her own apartment, or at Ollie’s loft when she stayed the night with him. Laurel stepped aside, letting her father enter.

The two of them moved to the couch and sat down. Laurel saw Sara peering out from the shadows of her bedroom, soaking in the sight of their father. “What brings you by?” Laurel asked. “Cuz you made it pretty clear how you felt about what I’m doing.”

“I’m not here about that,” Quentin said, shaking his head. “Whatever happens with that is on your head. I’ve done what I can to discourage you from working with that lunatic. If you can’t see he’s leading you down a dangerous road, than I’ll just have to hope you come to your senses before the consequences catch up with you. I’m here about Sara.”

“What about her?” Laurel asked after a moment’s pause. She saw Sara step forward slightly, falter, and retreat back into the bedroom, ducking her head.

“Has Oliver said if she’s come back at all? I figure if she came back, she’d go see him since she’s not feeling like she can come see us,” Quentin said.

“Oliver hasn’t said anything about her,” Laurel could answer honestly. He had led Sara into the ‘trap’ of meeting her face-to-face at the Bunker, and they hadn’t talked about Sara and her situation since then. “I’m sure that wherever Sara is, she wants to come home, even if she’s afraid to. She might feel she can’t, that we’ll judge her for who she had to become while she was away. That’s what I got from the note she left with Ollie.” _And from the conversations I’ve had with her,_ Laurel added silently in her head, hoping her father took the bait.

He did. “I’m not gonna judge Sara for surviving hell,” Quentin said. “She’s my daughter, Laurel, same as you, and whatever the two of you do, wherever your paths take you, you’ll always be my little girls. That’s never gonna change.”

Laurel watched as Sara hesitated before stepping forward, giving her a nod, clenching and unclenching her fists nervously. “Turn around,” Laurel told her father softly. Confusion flitted across his features, then surprise, and finally hope as he turned and stood to face his youngest daughter.

“S-Sara?” Quentin stuttered.

“It’s me, Dad,” Sara said quietly, moving forward. “It’s me. I’m here.” She stepped closer, and Quentin reached out to touch her, his hand brushing over her cheek, which was wet with the tears that had begun to stream down her face. “I’m-I’m home.”

“Yes, baby, you are,” Quentin said, taking Sara by the shoulders and pulling her into a bear hug, Sara burying her face in the cloth of his suit coat. “You are home.” Laurel sat by, smiling brilliantly as her father and sister reunited.

**_*DC*_ **

The last of Brick’s guards grunted as he slipped into unconsciousness, slumping against Green Arrow as the vigilante applied pressure to the thug’s windpipe with his arm. Green Arrow let the man drop. He had been moving through the warehouse silently for the past twenty minutes, taking out Brick’s men one by one, and now the only one left standing was the budding crime lord himself. Green Arrow moved to the office in the center of the warehouse where Brick was going over his plans to expand his criminal empire. He fired an explosive arrow, sending the door of the office flying off its hinges and barreling through after it, nocking one of the basic arrows from the flechette on his left forearm and whirling to face Brickwell.

“So, the interfering busybody decides to pay me a visit,” Brick sneered. Green Arrow was struck with the fact that the last time he had seen Brick had been during the riot Diaz had started at Slabside. From what he knew, he had died at someone’s hands during the riot, and been found in the morgue. Considering that was the only way out of the prison aside from the front gate and Stanley had escaped, Green Arrow could put two and two together. “What, no smart comment, Greenie?”

“ **Daniel Brickwell,** ” Green Arrow said, “ **you have failed this city.** ”

“Oh, come to give me a chance to atone for my crimes, have you?” Brick laughed. “You’ll forgive me if I don’t take you up on that offer.” He picked up his radio. “Gents, we have an intruder. Whichever one of you manages to kill him will be forgiven for letting him get this far.” Brick waited expectantly.

Green Arrow chuckled. “ **I’m afraid I spent the past twenty minutes knocking your men out and ensuring they won’t bother us,** ” he said. “ **This is a reckoning almost twenty years in the making, Brickwell.** ”

“You’re telling me you’ve been waiting twenty years to get ahold of little old me?” Brick laughed. “You gotta get yourself a girl, mate.”

“ **No,** ” Green Arrow said, “ **but without the crime you committed nineteen years ago, there would be no need for me.** ” With that cryptic statement, Green Arrow loosed his arrow, which flew straight and true, striking Brick in the shoulder. The man hissed in pain and Green Arrow surged forward, using his bow to bash Brick in the side of the head. Brick stumbled slightly, then recovered and thrust a meaty fist into Green Arrow’s side, driving the breath from the Emerald Archer’s body.

“I think you’ll find I’m a little harder to take down than that Chinese harlot,” Brick sneered and delivered another blow to the side of Green Arrow’s jaw and busting his lip open. Green Arrow spat blood from his mouth and struck back, delivering a bow-cut (an uppercut with his bow) to Brick’s chin, the brass knuckle grip giving the blow more of an impact. Green Arrow backed up, giving himself space from Brick, and delivered a swift kick to Brick’s sternum, driving Brick back, clutching his chest in pain. Green Arrow surged forward, pressing his advantage and delivering one, two, three blows to the side of Brick’s head with the brass knuckle grip. Blood trickled from the head wound that this created, staining the brass knuckle grip in the process. With Brick out of it for the moment, Green Arrow drew one of the tranquilizer arrows from his quiver and jammed it into the side of Brick’s neck, injecting him with the tranquilizer. After a few tense moments, Brick slumped forward. **_*3*_**

Green Arrow double-checked that Brick had his weapon on him, setting it on the desk before using a bolo arrow to tie the unconscious gangster to his chair. “ **Send a message to Pike, let him know where to find a little gift,** ” he ordered Fyff through the comms.

“Think he’ll take the bait?” Fyff asked.

“ **Pike or Merlyn?** ” Green Arrow asked.

“Both. Either,” Fyff said.

“ **We’ll see,** ” Green Arrow mused. “ **I’m heading back.** ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter.
> 
> Chapter Notes:
> 
> *1* I’ve said it before, and I will probably say it many more times… writing Malcolm leaves me wanting to take a fucking shower afterwards to remove the coating of slime. Figured I’d share the pain with Oliver. It helps that I think Oliver as he stood in Crisis Part 1, where this story branched off from, would feel less-okay working with a man like Malcolm, even faking it.
> 
> *2* Laurel is still a very moral person. She didn’t engage in anything like blackmail until Season 2, when she was used along with Frank Bertinelli to draw Helena into a trap. So, obviously, she’s going to struggle with some of Oliver’s morally gray choices. She wouldn’t be Laurel otherwise.
> 
> *3* Oh, I needed this. It’s been so long in this story since I wrote a good ol’ chapter of Oliver beating down on the bad guys and getting descriptive with it.


	27. Duty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Warning. There is teenage melodrama in this chapter courtesy of Thea. I hope I handled it better than our *dear friend*, Marc Guggenheim…

Oliver Queen had been in a meditative state for an hour, during which Henry Fyff had continued to piece together surveillance footage from across the city tracking Danakov’s shooter back to their point of origin. Oliver was searching his memories of everything to do with his parents and Merlyn that might have something to do with the Undertaking and Tempest, something he could use to discover the other members of Tempest and learn how deeply invested they were in the Undertaking. He took note of everything that stuck out in his memory, and finally a pattern began to emerge.

Frank Chen visiting the Queen Mansion with a few other people whose faces escaped him; Frank Chen talking with his father the day Laurel tried to talk to him about getting a place together like their friends had done; Frank Chen and his mother talking about something in low tones while he passed by them; his mother including Frank Chen’s name in the list of people Malcolm had killed in pursuit of his madness when she confessed on live television to being complicit in the Undertaking; Moira telling Oliver that she had reached out to Frank, as his father once had, and tried to have Merlyn killed, allowing Frank to take the fall later; Merlyn telling Oliver that it had been Frank Chen who betrayed his father and hired the Triad to place a bomb onboard the _Queen’s Gambit_.

Frank Chen was the link Oliver had been looking for; but Frank Chen was a Chinese national, and Oliver couldn’t travel to China without raising suspicion, especially since that had been what his father had been doing. But Frank Chen _had_ been a close associate of both of his parents and Walter; it was likely he would come for at least Moira’s funeral, since Walter’s body was being returned to England to be buried by his remaining family. **_*1*_**

Oliver pulled out of his meditation. He had the information he was looking for, though he hated that he was going to have to use his mother’s _funeral_ as another step in his plan to destroy Merlyn’s plans for the Glades. “How’s your search going?” he asked Fyff, needing something to pull his attention away from the fact that he wouldn’t even be allowed to mourn his mother properly, even if he waited until afterward to pay a visit to Frank Chen and get all the intelligence on Tempest that he needed.

“I finished a little bit ago, figured you wouldn’t want to be interrupted,” Fyff said. “You won’t believe who was behind the attack.”

“Try me,” Oliver said dryly.

“A mafia princess, Helena Bertinelli,” Fyff replied. “What do you want done with the information?”

Oliver was silent for a moment. Laurel had told him about what her father had revealed, about the deal brokered between the police and organized crime, which meant that nothing would be done with the information if he turned it over to the police. But Oliver couldn’t intervene this time, either; there was just too much to do already, and as it was, once Helena discovered his connection to the Triad, which she was certain to do, than any progress he had made with her would be thrown out the window, just like in the previous timeline when his deep friendship with Tommy and especially Laurel had shattered her fledgling trust in him. “Put it on a flash drive,” Oliver said, turning back to his uniform. “It’s about time Agent Trimble and the Green Arrow had a face-to-face.”

**_*DC*_ **

Darius Trimble sighed as he entered his hotel room at the Starling Marriott. He had just gotten done having a talk with Alex Danvers, who had waited at Oliver Queen’s loft for hours until it became obvious the man wasn’t coming home anytime soon and returned to the hotel. The young agent was asking to be given something else, _anything else_ to do aside from babysitting Oliver Queen, especially since the man was ducking away from her without much trouble. As far as Danvers was concerned, if Oliver Queen was so arrogant as to think he didn’t need protection, let him walk around without it and learn the lesson the hard way. Maybe it would make him appreciate her efforts. Trimble had firmly told Danvers that she was the only one he could spare and that she would just have to find a happy balance with the Queen scion.

Trimble flicked the light switch into its upward ‘on’ position and moved further into the room, only to freeze upon spotting the figure in the room. He froze only for a moment. A second later, he had dropped what he had been carrying and cleared his gun from it’s holster, holding it on the figure of the Green Arrow. “Hands over your head, on your knees,” he demanded.

The Green Arrow chuckled. “ **That’s an amusing request, Agent Trimble,** ” the vigilante said. “ **Do you really think I’ll comply?** ”

“If you don’t, I’ll shoot you,” Trimble said firmly.

“ **No, you won’t,** ” Green Arrow said confidently. “ **Because you and I are after the same thing. Tempest. I thought it was time we talked.** ”

“You can come down to the station, and we can talk all you want,” Trimble said firmly, keeping his gun trained on the vigilante, who had made no moves against him.

“ **Police stations tend to be full of people I try to avoid,** ” Green Arrow said diplomatically. “ **I’m going to reach into a pouch and pull a flash drive out. Please do not shoot me.** ” Green Arrow reached slowly into a pouch around his waist, Trimble watching him carefully in case he tried at the last minute to pluck an arrow from the flechette and throw it at him, like he had seen him do on some security footage that had been recovered from one of the Green Arrow’s appearances. Green Arrow withdrew a flash drive, and then set it on the table, below a lamp and by the room phone.

“What is that?” Trimble said.

“ **Evidence,** ” Green Arrow replied. “ **An olive branch. Do well with this, and I’ll provide more information on Tempest.** ”

“What does this have to do with Tempest?” Trimble asked.

“ **The man behind Tempest orchestrated a deal between organized crime in the city and the S.C.P.D.,** ” Green Arrow replied. “ **Organized crime sticks to the Glades, and in return, the S.C.P.D. don’t look too closely at their activities.** ”

Trimble slowly lowered his weapon. “By rights, I should put a round in your leg and cuff you,” he said, “but there’s something about you that makes me pause. You aren’t like a normal vigilante, are you? Most of them are in this for the thrill. That’s not what you’re after.”

“ **No, it isn’t,** ” Green Arrow replied softly. He moved to the window, and Trimble just watched as the vigilante climbed out through the window that he hadn’t realized was open. He heard the vigilante’s bow firing, and then silence. Trimble holstered his weapon and moved to pick up the flash drive, wondering in his mind what had stayed his hand. He should’ve put a round in Green Arrow’s leg, cuffed him, and dragged his ass down to the police station. He was an F.B.I. agent; he shouldn’t be working with a vigilante, even if the vigilante didn’t seem to operate in the same way most other vigilantes did.

This vigilante wasn’t obsessed with killing his targets like most other vigilantes, who tended to be tagged as mission-based serial killers. He worked with the police and lawyers, making sure they had all of the evidence needed to ensure a conviction. From the whispers they had heard around the station, he had offered information on James Holder to the District Attorney, who was now on the brink of facing charges of corruption and the mayor looking to wash his hands of her. The evidence had come from an anonymous tip to Channel 52’s Susan Williams. The biggest difference between Green Arrow and your average vigilante was that he had access to tech and resources beyond any normal vigilante, and he wasn’t looking to kill those he targeted, his actions with James Holder being the sole exception thus far.

What was his motivation? What was his purpose for doing all of this? Why did Green Arrow exist? These questions and more would come to trouble Darius Trimble throughout the night and the rest of his time in Starling City. **_*2*_**

**_*DC*_ **

Oliver entered the loft, closing the door softly behind him and finding his sister sleeping fitfully on the couch. Agent Teller had been downstairs and given him a nod, but other than that there had been no confrontation about his ditching of Agent Danvers at Queen Consolidated. Oliver went and pulled the blanket up over his sister’s torso, and her hazel eyes blinked open sleepily. “Ollie?” she asked, her voice scratchy from exhaustion.

“Yeah, Speedy,” Oliver said, taking a seat on the edge of the couch. Thea pulled her legs up under her as she rose into a sitting position, brushing her hair back away from her eyes. “Why aren’t you in bed?”

“Because we need to talk,” Thea said seriously. Oliver frowned, not sure what there was for them to talk about. “Ollie, all of this is getting so out of hand. You need to stop. The F.B.I. are investigating the Green Arrow. I-I’ve already lost Mom, and Dad, and Walter… we’ve almost lost Laurel twice… I can’t lose you, too, Ollie. I just can’t. Stop. Please stop. Stop being the Green Arrow. Stop going out at night. Just-Just be my _brother_!” Thea broke down as she said the last word, curling in on herself and soaking her knees with her tears.

Oliver remembered another time, in the future, where someone who’s life he was responsible for asked him to stop being the Green Arrow. He hadn’t been able to keep his word, just as he wouldn’t be able to do so now. He remembered very well what Novu had told him when he first returned to this time. “ _I have seen many futures, Oliver, and in each one Grant Wilson is the one who inspires madness and brings about a dark age in your city. Only when you stand against him as the Green Arrow is the city kept safe._ ”

He, and he alone, could safeguard his city. He couldn’t abandon it as he had when he went to fight Ra’s, as he had when he left after defeating Ra’s, as he had when Watson’s investigation got too close and he had foisted the responsibility off on John Diggle. Oliver Queen was the Green Arrow, and the Green Arrow was Oliver Queen. The two were indivisible now. But how to get that across to his little sister, who wasn’t the strong, independent warrior he had left behind in 2019 but a scared teenage girl who had just lost so much of her family already?

Oliver scooted closer to his sister, reaching an arm around her, and pulling her close. She burrowed into his side, tears soaking his suit jacket. “I know that you’re worried about me, and I know you’re feeling like you’re alone in the world because of everything I have to do,” Oliver said quietly, his thumb running up and down soothingly on his sister’s shoulder. “I could do what you ask, abandon the mission I set for myself, turn over all the information I have to the F.B.I. But in doing that, I would deny who I am at my very core. I would deny this city the person it needs to shepherd it through the darkness on the horizon. I heard once that the night is darkest just before the dawn. I want to see dawn rise on our city again, Thea, and I cannot leave the fate of my city in the hands of those who are not invested in it’s future. Oliver Queen is the Green Arrow, and the Green Arrow is Oliver Queen. I wish I had the answer you’re looking for. But this is who I am now. I can’t deny that, no matter how hard it makes life for us.”

Thea stood abruptly, pulling away from Oliver and heading for the stairs. Oliver watched her go, saddened but not completely surprised. Thea was still only seventeen; she hadn’t seen the dark future Oliver had, hadn’t faced off with potent evils such as Ra’s al Ghul and Damien Darhk. Oliver had faced the greatest evil in the multiverse, had died at the hands of its minions, and that had polarized his view of the world. You couldn’t fight for a better future if you were divided, and Oliver Queen had always been divided from the Green Arrow, if only in his mind. But now he understood; he and the Green Arrow were one and the same. Oliver wished he could be the person his sister needed him to be, but the needs of Starling City came first. That was the price of being a hero. **_*3*_**

With a sigh, Oliver stood and made his way to his own bedroom to get a few hours of sleep before his morning appointment with Dr. Green. Maybe he could find a way to talk about what had just happened with her. That should be safe enough and let him gauge the kind of person this Dr. Green was. Depending on how she handled what Oliver would frame as his sister struggling with his new position as C.E.O. of Queen Consolidated, she could potentially be a potent ally. While he could always talk to Laurel, she was admittedly biased in his favor. An outside, objective perspective could only help him in the long run. But first he would have to make sure she was trustworthy. Luckily, he had a healthy reserve of ways to test people.

**_*DC*_ **

Tommy Merlyn sighed as he left the apartment he had just been in, having come here from a party at Poison. He had been here before; he recognized the view of the city. But he didn’t remember the woman who he had come there with; she had just been one person in a long line of people that he had been with over the years. For all he knew this wasn’t even the second time he had been there; it was probably the fourth or fifth in reality. He had always attracted a specific type of woman.

Tommy got into his car and drove through the nearly-silent city. It was almost two a.m. and the city was sleeping, with only a few dozen people awake on each street, hunched behind the wheels of their cars the same as Tommy. The Merlyn scion drummed his fingers on the steering wheel as he pulled to a stop at the red light. His mind drifted back to what he and Oliver had talked about, the morning that Oliver had received the call that his mother had killed herself in jail. He had been thinking about that conversation a lot lately. What would be his legacy when he died? A plethora of satisfied women who barely remembered his name but still went after him because he was rich and handsome? Being the disappointment in his father’s eye? What would be the mark he left on the world?

Oliver was certainly taking the opportunities he was being given, tragic as those circumstances had been. Tommy had been shocked when he went to the press conference at Laurel’s suggestion and learned that his best friend had just become the youngest C.E.O. in the city. He had been forcefully reminded of his best friend’s words the day they learned Moira was dead, that he didn’t want his legacy to be that of the playboy who punched a paparazzi and slept with Sara Lance while dating her sister. Oliver’s passion for this had surprised Tommy, but it had also gotten him thinking.

Tommy sighed. Tomorrow, he would go see his dad, ask about getting a job at Merlyn Global. Oliver was right; there needed to be more to life than partying their way through it. He could still have a good time and be a responsible adult, right?

**_*DC*_ **

Oliver fixed breakfast for himself and a silent Thea the next morning, the girl nibbling on her toast and eggs but maintaining the silent treatment she had instituted last night. Oliver sighed. “Thea, at some point, you’re going to have to talk to me again,” Oliver said. “I know that what I said last night wasn’t what you wanted to hear, but at least I’m being honest with you. Doesn’t that earn me something?” Thea responded by kicking him in the shins beneath the counter.

Oliver showed no reaction and smiled thinly at his sister. “If you’re going to act like a child, I’m going to treat you like one,” he told her, though he didn’t tell her what he meant to keep her from countering what he had planned. It had worked, somewhat, for Malcolm in getting Tommy to grow up. He found it bitterly ironic he was taking parenting advice from the Dark Archer, considering the man was a self-proclaimed sociopath. “I have a therapy appointment this morning, and then I have to go into the office for a couple of hours to deal with paperwork. Do you want me to bring dinner tonight?” Silence. “Okay then. I’ll bring Chinese food.” Oliver turned his attention back to his own sunny-side up eggs and bacon.

“Why?” Thea asked suddenly.

Oliver set down the crispy rasher of bacon he had picked up, wiping the grease from his fingers on the napkin beside his plate. “Why, what?” he asked quietly.

“Why does it have to be _you_? Why can’t someone else do this? Why can’t Sara, since no one knows she’s alive and back in the city? No one would look twice at a dead woman,” Thea said. “But you’re so open and public now, Ollie, and you don’t hide your opinions. Someone, somewhere is gonna start connecting the dots between Oliver Queen and the Green Arrow. What if the person who does is someone who hates what you stand for?”

Oliver was silent for a moment. His sister’s fear was a realistic, especially when you factored in what would’ve happened over the next seven years had the timeline remained intact. Every last one of his enemies had learned or always known that Oliver Queen was the Green Arrow, and they had _all_ used that knowledge against him, targeting the people that he loved. Oliver had started his crusade over with the intent of keeping Green Arrow as a folk hero of sorts, one who’s identity was never known. He knew how to disguise his identity now, so the only ones who he would have to fear were Slade, Ra’s, and Emiko (and through her Diaz), assuming he didn’t find a way to nip the last two in the bud. He had no intention of letting Merlyn or Darhk know his identity, and that was assuming he came into conflict with the latter. So long as the League remained strong under the leadership of Ra’s, Oliver doubted H.I.V.E. would move as blatantly as they had done while the League was under Merlyn’s custodianship.

Finally, Oliver spoke. “Sara’s made it clear by keeping her distance that she wants no part in my mission,” Oliver said, “and since her life hasn’t been her own in five years, I’m not inclined to force her to help. Thea, I can’t explain why I have to do this. It’s instinctual, right down to my bones, to fight for this city. I never thought when I started this that Mom and Walter would die, leaving you in my custody. I was sure they would always be there for you.” And he had. He had believed everything he did would keep his family safe from Malcolm’s actions until he confronted the bastard at Christmas. “But say I do as you ask. Say I stopped being Green Arrow, renounced my plans to revitalize Starling City through Queen Consolidated. What would happen then?”

Thea shook her head. “That doesn’t matter to me, Ollie.”

“It _should_ matter,” Oliver said emphatically. “It _should!_ This city is dying, Thea. It is being poisoned by a criminal elite who don’t care who they hurt, so long as they maintain their wealth and power. Someone needs to do _something_ , and if it’s not gonna be the courts or the cops, then it’s going to be me. If I stop doing what I’m doing, then bottom-feeders like Adam Hunt will be emboldened and continue to victimize those who can’t defend themselves, those who are being targeted by a genocidal madman bent on getting vengeance for something that happened twenty years ago! I’m sorry that I can’t be the person you need me to be, Thea, but the past five years have taught me one thing: that the mission comes first, no matter how much we wish otherwise. The mission now is the battle for Starling’s soul, and I refuse to lose it to a genocidal madman!”

“I-I don’t even know who you _are_ anymore,” Thea said, her voice cracking, and she once again fled to her bedroom, leaving her half-finished breakfast behind. Oliver pushed his own plate away, having lost his appetite. He needed to get ready for today anyways. As he stood, he received a text on his phone. Opening it, he smiled semi-bitterly. It was from Tommy, asking Oliver to wish him luck since he was going to ask Malcolm for a job. Oliver hoped that Tommy could be a stabilizing influence in his family’s company once Merlyn was taken down and his plans for the Glades exposed. Maybe that was putting too much on his friend’s shoulders; but it was what it was. Merlyn Global was going to be facing a refining fire in less than a year, one way or the other. The question was whether it would survive that fire or be burnt to ash.

**_*DC*_ **

Oliver sat down across from the slender auburn-haired woman with kind green eyes. “So, I don’t really know how much help this is gonna be,” Oliver said. “I’m really a very private person, Dr. Green. But I figure I have to try, if only because Mom wanted me to get some help to deal with… everything.”

“Well, why don’t we start there, with your mother,” Dr. Green said gently. “I imagine the past few days have been very hard. I understand the funeral is tomorrow. How are you and your sister handling that?”

“It’s been hard,” Oliver admitted. “Especially because I’ve had to take on new responsibilities. My sister is scared that something will happen to me because of what I’m doing, and she actually asked me to stop, to let someone else take the risk. I don’t know how to explain to her that it _has_ to be me. No one else can do what I can do; no one else _cares_ enough to take the stands I will. I want to see this city become a better place for everyone, but especially for families. Even if it never happens for me, I want my sister to live in a city where she can walk down the street and not worry about being raped; where she can raise her children alongside her husband. I don’t know how to tell her this without being blunt.”

“Maybe that’s what’s needed in this case,” Dr. Green said. “Sometimes, when grief is twisting a person’s mind, the only thing that gets through is a swift, sharp shock to the system. You have to think about more than just yourself, and this is something you know. But your sister is still a teenage girl, and teenagers are especially self-centered, caught up as they are in their own little dramas. It takes something dramatic to shake them out of this.”

“I see,” Oliver said quietly. The truth was, he did see; he had been trying to protect his sister’s innocence by shielding her from what he was fighting against, by shielding her from the truth about Malcolm Merlyn and the desperate battle for Starling’s soul. That might have been fine when his mother was alive, but now he was his sister’s guardian, and she didn’t understand why he was so dedicated to protecting the people of Starling City. Maybe he needed to show her the world through his eyes so that she could. “You’ve given me something to think about, Dr. Green. Thank you.”

“What else do you want to talk about today, Oliver?” Dr. Green asked.

“I’m afraid of what it’ll mean to be C.E.O. of Queen Consolidated,” Oliver said, and this was true, as well as being a safe topic. The last time he had been C.E.O., he had been so terrible at it that the board had supported Rochev’s takeover. Even if that was no longer an option thanks to his being the majority shareholder, he had no desire to run his family’s company into the ground. “My parents were both business-minded people; so was Walter. They knew this world, they knew the players, the pitfalls and perils of the corporate world. My godfather has offered his help, but…” Oliver trailed off, knowing he couldn’t tell Dr. Green the true reason he didn’t want to accept Merlyn’s help.

“You want to make your own way, be your own man,” Dr. Green said softly, and Oliver looked at her, surprised. “You are not the only man I’ve had in my office who had expectations heaped upon him by those who loved him. The best advice I can give all of my patients, and which I will give to you, is this: _be yourself._ ”

“That’s all I ever try to be, Dr. Green,” Oliver said softly. “But sometimes I wonder if people can accept me for who I am now.”

“The only way to find that out, is to let them into your world,” Dr. Green replied softly. **_*4*_**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter.
> 
> Chapter Notes:
> 
> *1* Frank Chen pops up enough in Season 1 of “Arrow” that he would’ve been on Oliver’s radar if Oliver had known what he was really supposed to stop. Makes me wonder if Robert Queen actually wanted to stop the Undertaking, since he didn’t tell Oliver the truth either on the raft or in his confession video.
> 
> *2* With Oliver not killing as many people and even going out of his way to avoid it, he’s not the typical vigilante that the F.B.I. gets called in to chase in shows like “Criminal Minds”. I wanted to showcase this, which is why I brought in an OC F.B.I. agent instead of Watson. That, and I don’t like Watson at all. Warning: if she pops up, I’ll probably have her exposed as a plant for the Ninth Circle or something. Might seem lazy, but so was the writing for her. The F.B.I. are held to a higher standard than cops, and even cops can’t just show up without an invitation when going after someone well-connected like, say, a mayor.
> 
> *3* I know in this scene I kind of repeat the theme that Oliver and Green Arrow are one and the same, and that was intentional. Oliver in the show is, in my opinion, constantly divided between his hopes for a family and his desires to protect his city. In this story, dying during the Crisis has crystalized the truth for him: that Oliver Queen is the Green Arrow, and the Green Arrow is Oliver Queen.
> 
> *4* And so Oliver’s finally had his first therapy session. It only took, what, fifteen or so chapters since Moira first brought it up? I hope people found the session to be a good balance of healing and learning for Oliver. I’ll probably only show sessions where Oliver does healing and learning, since sessions where he just talks about his day at Queen Consolidated won’t be very interesting and there’s gonna be more than a few of those.


	28. Rendition

Oliver Queen’s lips twitched as he found Alex Danvers waiting for him beside the car outside of Dr. Green’s office. “Good morning, Agent Danvers,” he said cheerfully. She gave him a withering look in return. “You know, you could just stop trying to follow me around,” he said, becoming serious. “The fact is, I’m a very private person, and I have things I like to do in my own time that I don’t want the F.B.I. knowing since whatever you know, some hacker with a lucky streak can find out. You’ll forgive me if I don’t have confidence in the F.B.I. to keep my secrets.” His lips twitched slightly as thought of the secrets he possessed; yes, he certainly didn’t trust the likes of the F.B.I. with the truth of his nature after dealing with Samandra Watson and her bullheaded vendetta against him, to the point that she had ignored the obvious corruption at work when it came to his being exposed.

“Mr. Queen, believe me, I would much rather be focusing my attention on finding the serial killer that killed Miss Smoak,” Alex said. “But Agent Trimble thinks you and your sister might be in danger from the person who murdered Walter Steele. That makes your safety one of our priorities, however inconvenient it might be for you personally. Now get in; I understand we have to spend a few hours at Queen Consolidated.”

“Yes, we do,” Oliver said, getting into the town car, Agent Danvers following behind him. Apparently, she was going to take the John Diggle approach to ensuring his safety now that he had ducked out on her twice in a row. Oh, this was going to be fun; it had been a while since he had been forced to really duck away from those intended to protect him. Or, he mused, he could always offer Agent Trimble the code that Waller had given him to use. It would identify him as a deep cover operative for an intelligence branch and keep the F.B.I. off his back. But if he used it, it would mean A.R.G.U.S. had an even deeper hold on him, and so far, Waller hadn’t done anything such as request his aid in an A.R.G.U.S. mission. But then, he _would_ need A.R.G.U.S. help in abducting Frank Chen and holding him somewhere secure while he interrogated him regarding Tempest.

“If you’re planning how to duck away from me, I’m going to be keeping my eye on you, Mr. Queen,” Alex said, giving him a firm look. Oliver merely smiled at her in reply. Yes, as much as he hated to admit it, he was going to have to use his A.R.G.U.S. connection to get the F.B.I. off of his back. He would only be able to avoid Alex for so long; same with any other agent who was assigned to him. Eventually, the F.B.I. would want to know exactly what he was up to. He couldn’t operate the way he needed to if he was looking over his shoulder for the F.B.I. all the time.

“Ask your boss to meet us at Queen Consolidated,” Oliver said. No time like the present to deal with this. Alex raised an eyebrow but sent a text to Trimble. The rest of the journey to Queen Consolidated was spent in an uncomfortable silence. Once at Q.C., Oliver made his way to his new office for the second day in a row, finding Ned Foster waiting for him. “Ned, what’s on the agenda for today?” Oliver asked briskly as Alex took a seat in the outside lobby to wait for her boss, eyeing Oliver suspiciously through the glass partition.

“We need to go over the paperwork for the Unidac merger,” Ned said. “Walter’s last act as C.E.O. was to secure Unidac for our Applied Sciences division.”

“Ah,” Oliver said quietly. The two hunched over Oliver’s desk, going over the paperwork for the next hour before Darius Trimble arrived. Oliver sent Ned away and waved the F.B.I. agents inside the office.

“What’s this about, Mr. Queen?” Trimble asked.

“We need to talk about this issue we’re having with the protection detail,” Oliver said, having come up with a potentially better way of putting a stop into the unwanted intrusion into his and his sister’s lives. “Mr. Trimble, how many of your people are Special Forces? Is Agent Danvers such? Is Agent Teller?”

“No,” Trimble asked, confused.

“Well, Walter Steele was protected by a dozen former Spec Ops soldiers, and he was still killed, and based on what I’ve heard through the rumor mill, so were the men who were protecting him,” Oliver said. “If the person who killed him and his security detail wanted my sister and I dead, they could’ve gotten to us already, even at the safehouse you took us to. Take your security detail off of us and put those agents to better use pursuing actual leads.”

“Mr. Queen, I understand that it might be frustrating, but what we’re doing is only with your best interests at heart,” Trimble said.

“And as I said, if the person who killed Walter wanted to kill Thea and I, they would have already killed us, along with Agents Danvers and Teller,” Oliver replied. “You’re wasting resources, Agent Trimble. Pull the detail, put your people on more important matters.” _Or as best you can,_ Oliver mused, thinking of how the investigation they had originally been brought in to conduct had been stymied by Moira and then Walter’s deaths. “If I get the feeling that my sister and I are indeed under threat, I assure you, I’ll hire the best security firm in the city to keep us safe. But until such a time, I want our lives back.”

Trimble sighed. It had been a few days since they put the security detail on the Queen siblings, and there had been no sign of any threat to the pair. While he still felt there could be a threat, he couldn’t argue with Oliver’s deductions regarding the situation, either. “Very well, Mr. Queen,” Trimble said, “but on your own head be the consequences. Agent Danvers, you’ll accompany me back to the station. We could use your help on some recent intelligence we received.”

“Yes, sir,” Alex said, and the two F.B.I. agents exited Oliver’s office after saying their goodbyes. Oliver watched them go with a sense of relief. Finally, he could get back to work on keeping the city safe without looking over his shoulder. Oliver picked up his phone and hit the extension for Ned Foster so that he could call him back in and they could finish up the major paperwork for the day. **_*1*_**

**_*DC*_ **

“Can’t say I’m not relieved to no longer be babysitting that arrogant bastard,” Alex said plainly as she and Trimble drove back towards the police precinct they had based out of until they could arrange office space for their task force. “What do you want me to do now, sir?”

“I received a visit in my hotel room last night from the Green Arrow,” Trimble said, and Alex jerked in her seat, looking at her boss in shock as he continued to drive as though he had just casually mentioned that the sky was looking stormy. “According to him, the Starling City Police Department and organized crime in this city have an arrangement, and so a recent murder of a Bratva member will be shoved under the rug. Green Arrow pieced together security footage tracing the killer all the way back to their hideout and revealing their identity in the process.”

“Why did he come to you instead of taking care of whatever it is himself?” Alex asked curiously.

“He’s testing me,” Trimble said after a moment. “I think he wants to work with me to deal with Tempest. But he wants to make sure I can handle working with a vigilante, even if he’s like no vigilante the F.B.I. has dealt with before.” Alex agreed to that silently; based on what she’d researched about Green Arrow, he was more folk hero than mission-based serial killer, a modern-day Robin Hood, indeed. “I should have just tried to subdue him, brought him in and sweated him until he broke,” Trimble continued quietly, “but there was just something about him that gave me pause. I don’t know why I let him walk away, Danvers. But there’s something going on in this city, and if Green Arrow is willing to work with me to stop it… I can put my personal opinions aside. I know I’ll be reprimanded for working with a vigilante when all is said and done, but I get this feeling, like it’s the _right_ thing to do.”

Alex was silent as they drove the rest of the way to the precinct, trying to wrap her head around what her boss had told her. The F.B.I. didn’t work with vigilantes; they hunted them down, caught them, and threw them in prison. What was Trimble thinking, accepting help from one, even if he was more folk hero than serial killer? Anything they dug up with a vigilante’s help could potentially be fruit of the poisonous tree.

Unfortunately, it seemed that just because she was done babysitting Queen it didn’t mean her troubles in this city were over. “So, who killed the Bratva member?” Alex asked finally.

Trimble’s lips twitched into a grim smile. “Helena Bertinelli, daughter of Frank Bertinelli, the local mafioso.”

“Shit,” Alex said after a moment. This could cause a gang war if they weren’t careful.

“Indeed,” Trimble said dryly.

**_*DC*_ **

Oliver had tasked Henry Fyff the previous night with monitoring Frank Chen’s passport, which would let him know when the man entered the United States. It was evening, Oliver getting ready to leave Queen Consolidated for the operations center, when he received the call from Fyff. Chen had just arrived in Starling City and was taking up a hotel room at the local Marriott. Oliver pulled out his encrypted phone and selected Amanda Waller’s name from his list of contacts. “Oliver,” Waller greeted coolly as she picked up.

“Amanda, there’s a man with intimate knowledge of Tempest staying at the Starling Marriott,” Oliver said. “I need him picked up, discreetly, and taken to a secure location for me to interrogate when I get the chance. His name is Frank Chen.”

“I’ll handle it,” Waller replied. “In return, there is a favor I have to ask you. One of the people on your List is due to make an appearance in Starling City in the next week. Leo Mueller. I want him.”

“Alright,” Oliver said slowly, knowing better than to ask for the reasons why. “I’ll make sure and give you the heads-up when I catch him.” Waller said nothing in return, instead hanging up. “Such a charming woman,” Oliver muttered as he got into the elevator.

**_*DC*_ **

Oliver had informed Alexi that he had found the person responsible for Danakov’s death and gotten the information into the hands of the F.B.I. Leonov wasn’t pleased that Oliver wasn’t going to give the name to the Bratva, but part of the changes Anatoli wanted to bring to the Bratva was a movement away from gangland retaliations, and Oliver knew this. So did Leonov, which was why, despite his rage at not being able to pursue the vendetta himself, he had subsided and accepted the ‘captain’s judgment’. Oliver knew he wasn’t doing himself any favors when it came to the Bratva, but they knew he was acting with the authority of the Pakhan, and that meant something, even as far removed from Russia as they were.

Oliver had also had a very tense, silent dinner with Thea before heading out again to continue his fight for Starling’s soul.

Now Oliver was at the Bunker, going over his plans for the evening. According to the tap that Fyff had into the S.C.P.D. systems, ballistics was being run on Brick’s weapon, though they wouldn’t get results for forty-eight hours due to a backlog with their C.S.I. division. Oliver was grateful, as it meant he could mourn his mother in peace and have a chance to interrogate Frank Chen before Malcolm learned that his wife’s murderer was in the S.C.P.D.’s custody. He had no idea how Malcolm would react to that. He hadn’t really been around the last time Malcolm discovered his wife’s murderer was still alive and walking free; he had only caught the tail end of it, and Malcolm had been very close to ending Brickwell’s life. It had only been his connection to Thea, or so Oliver had believed, that had Malcolm give up on his vengeance. But in the here and now, Merlyn was still committed to seeing his wife’s murder avenged.

Tomorrow night, he interrogated Frank Chen. The night after, he would have to be on the lookout for Malcolm’s likely explosive reaction to the discovery that his wife’s murderer was in custody. But tonight, it was going to be business as usual for the Green Arrow. There was another human trafficking ring at work in Starling City, under the direction of John Byrne. Flesh peddlers like Byrne raised Oliver’s ire like no other, and it would take a lot of restraint for him not to kill Byrne this time around. He had the last time, despite John Diggle’s protests. **_*2*_**

“You sure you can handle this on your own, boss?” Fyff asked worriedly. There were over thirty men guarding the ‘stock’ with Byrne at the shipping warehouse that he operated out of. That was a lot more than Oliver had taken on previously.

Oliver was almost offended at the doubt in his tech specialist’s voice. “Of course, I can,” Oliver scoffed. “I’ve made a name for myself. This scum is superstitious, easily frightened. I’ve made Green Arrow into more than a man; I’ve made him into a boogeyman for men like this.”

“You know it’s scary when you talk about yourself in the third person, right?” Fyff asked.

“You’re not the first person to tell me that,” Oliver said, remembering the many times Felicity had complained about it.

“Okay, so long as you know it’s creepy, more power to you,” Fyff said, turning his attention to the computers. “I’ll keep monitoring the warehouse while you’re en route and update you on any changes.” Oliver nodded and moved to the mannequin where his uniform waited. It was time to get back to it.

**_*DC*_ **

Green Arrow crouched on a catwalk, looking down at the warehouse floor. It was congested, like it had been in the last timeline, and the men were clustered in groups, some armed with automatics, others with bats. Green Arrow drew a magnetic arrow and fired it down into the center. The magnetic arrow activated, pulling the guns from the hands of those who had them, and Green Arrow fired a zipline arrow, sliding down it and landing on one man who crumpled beneath the weight of Starling City’s resident vigilante. The Green Arrow wasted no time, delivering a swift bow-cut to the chin of the next man in line, knocking him out, firing a bolo arrow and tying up two other men for the price of one, before firing a sleeping gas arrow into a cluster of men who were staring at him, dumbfounded. The sleeping gas deployed from its chamber, and the men stumbled slightly before falling to the ground, unconscious.

Green Arrow moved forward, throwing a pair of taser darts at the next two men to come at him, striking them in the chest and sending them, convulsing, to the ground. Green Arrow blocked a blow from a bat-wielding thug and delivered a strike to the man’s solar plexus, paralyzing his breathing before delivering one, two, three strikes to his face with the brass-knuckle grip of his bow. Another bat-wielding thug got in a lucky hit on Green Arrow’s left elbow, causing him to grunt as his arm went numb before flooding with pain. Shunting the sensation off to the side with the pain mediation techniques Ra’s al Ghul had taught him in those weeks he had been re-educated as Al Sah-Him Warith al Ghul, Green Arrow delivered a high kick to the thug’s chin, sending him sprawling backward, blood dribbling from his split lip and eyes unfocused as Green Arrow stepped over his prone form.

Green Arrow fired another magnetic arrow, stripping those who had recovered their weapons of them once more before firing a sleeping gas arrow into their midst, knocking them out as he had the last grouping. This left only five men left between him and Byrne, who was hot-footing it for the stairs leading to the roof. Green Arrow surged forward, calling on his training from the League and delivering punishing blows to each of the five men, leaving them groaning and crippled behind him as he continued his pursuit of Byrne to the roof, finding the man running towards the fire escape. Green Arrow fired one of the basic arrows he kept on the flechette around his left forearm at Byrne’s left leg, piercing him through the knee joint and bringing him to the ground with a scream of pain.

“ **John Byrne, you have failed this city!** ” Green Arrow snarled, hesitating for a moment over which specialty arrow to hit him with before wrapping him up like a package for the S.C.P.D. with a bolo arrow, and hoping he didn’t come to regret the decision to let scum like this live. “ **Contact the S.C.P.D.,** ” Green Arrow directed Fyff over the comms.

“ _Got it, boss,_ ” Fyff replied. **_*3*_**

**_*DC*_ **

Oliver and Thea sat in the very front row of chairs at the graveside service for their mother, Laurel sitting beside Oliver and holding his hand. Quentin was sitting beside Laurel, looking uncomfortable. Tommy and Malcolm were the last to make up those sitting on the front row. Others present at the service included Commssioner Brian Nudocerdo, Mayor Thomas Altman, and other members of Starling City’s elite. Oliver was silent, thinking about how he had missed his mother’s funeral in the last timeline, so this was the first time he was given a chance to properly mourn her in both timelines. But there was so much about his mother he felt conflicted about, and he still didn’t know what he was supposed to do now. He was C.E.O. of Queen Consolidated, the Green Arrow, Thea’s prospective guardian (Laurel had promised to help them with this), a captain in the Bratva trying to pull it away from criminality with the help of his friend the Pakhan, and all of it was beginning to get to him. Yet no one else could do what he was needed to do, so he would have to find some way to persevere.

It galled him to share the row with Malcolm Merlyn of all people, and he knew the time was coming when Malcolm would begin to pull Oliver into Tempest. Oliver had thought long and hard on this matter; on the one hand, he would hopefully be able to get all of the information about Tempest that he needed from Frank Chen when he interrogated the man tonight. He had been taken from his hotel room last night by an A.R.G.U.S. wetworks team and was being held in a secure location for Oliver to interrogate. But on the other hand, Merlyn had proven his resolve time and again, both in this timeline and the original. He had proven what he was capable of, proven that he would target those Oliver loved if Oliver betrayed him in his eyes. If Oliver moved against Merlyn, the people that he loved would suffer. He had already lost his mother and Walter; Thea, Laurel, and to some extent Sara were all he had left in the world, and he would safeguard, even if it meant smiling through his teeth at Merlyn while preparing for their inevitable confrontation. **_*4*_**

Laurel could feel how tense Oliver was, and rubbed her thumb soothingly over the top of the hand she was clasping with her own. Oliver gave her a gentle squeeze in appreciation. The funeral service continued, and Oliver was caught up in memories of his mother, from the time he was a young boy to the last conversation they had had. She had been encouraging him to go to his scheduled appointment with Dr. Green. He had finally fulfilled what had become his mother’s dying wish yesterday, and it had felt _good_ to talk about things that were bothering him with someone who had an unbiased view of the situation. It was too bad he couldn’t share a lot more with his therapist, since he could certainly use another perspective on some of his other troubles. But maybe one day he _would_ be able to share the entire truth with Dr. Green.

**_*DC*_ **

Oliver entered the cell where Frank Chen was hanging by his wrists from the ceiling, a black bag over his head and sound-dampening headphones blocking out all sound in the room, leaving the Chinese man in a state of constant fear, unaware of his surroundings or what was going on. Oliver could hear the man moaning, but couldn’t bring himself to care. This man betrayed his father to his death, and had, along with Merlyn and Emiko, sentenced Oliver to five years of hell that made him believe he was a monster. It had taken Oliver a long time to come to grips with the fact that he wasn’t one, and even now he struggled with whether he was or not because of what he did to Kovar’s man in Russia, regardless of the man’s extensive crimes. Oliver had left Thea in the capable hands of Laurel Lance while he came here to interrogate Chen, and with the thought that this was to help protect the two most important women left in his life in his mind, Oliver removed the headphones and then pulled the black bag away from Chen’s head.

Chen blinked rapidly, his eyes adjusting to the dim lighting of his surroundings, and his gaze focused on Oliver, eyes widening. “Oliver?” he asked in surprise. “What is this? What’s going on?”

“Your sins are coming home to roost, Mr. Chen,” Oliver said quietly. “Five years ago, you had your friends in the Triad place a bomb on the _Queen’s Gambit_ in an attempt to kill my father. He survived the attempt but later took his own life, but not before setting me on a course to bring justice to those who betrayed him. You are currently being held in an A.R.G.U.S. blacksite. A.R.G.U.S. is essentially the C.I.A. on steroids, a truly covert intelligence branch of the government. This site doesn’t exist, which means _you_ don’t exist. I hope I’ve made your position clear, Mr. Chen.”

“What is it you want, Oliver?” Chen asked after a moment, voice filled with pain from his prolonged hanging by the wrists.

“You are going to tell me _everything_ about Tempest,” Oliver said darkly. “Who are it’s members? Who are it’s closest allies? What resources does it control? How is it structured? Who handles what when it comes to the criminal filth you’ve been protecting all these years? _Everything._ And you are going to tell me now, or I’m going to twist and break you until you’re a drooling mess.”

As Frank Chen looked into the pitiless, shark-like eyes of Oliver Queen, he believed the threat issued by the newly-minted C.E.O. of Queen Consolidated. And so, he talked.

**_*DC*_ **

Oliver entered the loft, looking around. Laurel was nowhere in sight. She had probably gone home once Thea went to bed seeing as Sara was staying with her while they prepared to bring her back to life in the courts. Laurel and Quentin had set the ball rolling yesterday, while Oliver had been dealing with the paperwork from the Unidac merger. Oliver settled on the couch for a moment, going over everything that he had learned about Tempest.

It’s membership was limited, according to Chen. Carl Ballard, who Oliver vaguely recalled the name of from when Dig had bugged Moira in the last timeline; Thaddeus Cable, a man who had already succeeded where Brickwell had failed and controlled most of the blue collar crime in the city; Wilhelmina Hollinger, a socialite and head of one of those ‘heritage’ status groups in Starling, tracking how long someone’s bloodline had been in Starling; and of course, Frank Chen and Malcolm Merlyn, now that the Queens were no longer members until Malcolm made his bid to force Oliver into service. They had strong allies in Councilwoman Emily Pollard and Councilman Gregory Kullens. Oliver couldn’t say he was surprised at that in the least.

So now Oliver had the ‘who’, the ‘why’, and the ‘how’ of Tempest, which he could use to bring the rest of Malcolm’s cabal down either before or after bringing Merlyn to justice. The question was, did he move his plans to do just that up from the Christmas confrontation, get Merlyn out of the way? Or did he whittle away Malcolm’s support in a bid to do as Ra’s had all but ordered him to do and cut Merlyn’s criminal and legitimate ties? Oliver sighed, knowing that Merlyn’s reaction to Daniel Brickwell’s capture and the revelation of his role in Rebecca’s death would be a key element of whatever Oliver would need to do. Because as Oliver had already surmised, it was unlikely that Malcolm Merlyn would take the revelation his wife’s murderer was still alive and currently in the custody of the S.C.P.D. well.

Oliver stood and headed upstairs, deciding he would check on Thea before heading to bed himself. When he cracked her door open, he frowned. There was something _off_ about the way she was huddled in her bed. Oliver opened the door more fully and slowly approached, reaching out and moving to touch Thea on her shoulder, only for his hand to depress deeper than would be allowed by a human body. Oliver stripped the blanket away from the bed, heart in his throat, and stared at the pillows that had been piled beneath the blankets. Oliver raced to Thea’s dresser and pulled drawer after drawer open, and found her clothes missing. “No, no, no,” he muttered to himself in a panic. He pulled out his cell phone and hit Laurel’s name in his contacts. Laurel had took Thea home with her; that had to be it.

Laurel picked up. “Ollie, do you know what time it is?” she asked drowsily.

“Laurel, please tell me Thea is with you,” Oliver begged.

“I left her at the loft,” Laurel said, sounding more alert. “Ollie, what’s happening?”

“I came home, and she had piled pillows under her blankets and her clothes are all gone,” Oliver said. “I’m going to go out to the mansion, make sure she just didn’t go home. But I’m worried, Laurel. Thea hasn’t been in a good place with everything that’s been happening.”

“Thea’s going to be fine, Ollie,” Laurel said, and Oliver could hear her opening her own dresser drawers. “I’ll meet you at the mansion. We’ll find her.”

“Thank you,” Oliver breathed out and hung up before hurrying from the loft. He had to find Thea; he just _had_ to. **_*5*_**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter.
> 
> Chapter Notes:
> 
> *1* Now, I might be wrong, but as I understand it, people are allowed to refuse protective custody from the police and the F.B.I. Oliver’s allowed it so far just in case Merlyn did act against he and Thea, but now that he knows Merlyn’s planning to try and bring him onboard, he knows it’s useless and doesn’t want to be hampered in his efforts to clean up Starling. And, as he pointed out, the Dark Archer wiped out a dozen Special Forces soldiers to kill Walter. He’s not gonna be threatened by a pair of F.B.I. agents.
> 
> *2* In 8x10, it’s established that in the Earth-Prime timeline, Dig convincing Oliver to spare Byrne was the source of him ‘becoming a hero’ instead of his promise to Tommy since Tommy was alive. But I think in the *original* Earth-1 timeline, which this story takes place in, Oliver would’ve taken Byrne out of the equation. But then, I have that extreme hatred of rapists, serial killers, and human traffickers thing going, so…
> 
> *3* I hope the action played out in a way that satisfied readers, because it was satisfying to write. And I’ll be honest: I was iffy about Oliver letting John Byrne be arrested in the new timeline but I decided to keep him in character for how he is approaching things.
> 
> *4* Oliver is more connected to his family and friends than he was before, more in tune with what kind of man Merlyn is and what he’ll do. Oliver will do whatever it takes to safeguard the people he cares about from Merlyn’s wrath until he can take the bastard down, no matter how disgusting it makes him feel, because he knows what Merlyn is capable of.
> 
> *5* Thea finally reached her breaking point and is making a break for it. Will Oliver find her? Or will someone else find her first?


	29. Sisters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I’m glad everyone’s been enjoying the frequent updates. As I said recently, in either this story or another one, I don’t really have all that much to do but write stories since my enjoyment of other activities has taken a nosedive of late.

Oliver pulled his Camaro up in front of the silent Queen Mansion, finding Laurel’s car already there with her and Sara leaning against it, both looking concerned as Oliver exited his car. “Did you call Henry, ask him to look into this?” Laurel asked Oliver, who stopped in his tracks, a stymied expression on his face.

“I didn’t even think of that,” Oliver muttered. “First, let’s just make sure she’s not here. Then I’ll call Henry and get him on this. I don’t want to use A.R.G.U.S. resources if it’s just a simple case of Thea being homesick.” Laurel nodded, and the three entered the mansion. Oliver headed for his sister’s bedroom while Laurel and Sara split up and looked around the rest of the mansion. When they met up back in the entrance hall of the mansion, none of them had found any sign of Thea, or that anyone had even been in the mansion since Walter’s death. Oliver took a seat on the stairs, closing his eyes. He was a terrible guardian; he hadn’t even really made it official yet and already he had lost Thea. He pulled out his encrypted phone and selected Fyff’s name from his contact list.

“Yeah, boss?” Fyff asked sleepily as he answered.

“Henry, Thea’s missing, I think she ran away,” Oliver said. “Can you use the computers at the Bunker, see if you can track her?”

“On it,” Fyff said, and hung up. Oliver didn’t take offense, knowing it was just the way Fyff was once he had an assignment.

“Ollie, we’ll find her,” Laurel said comfortingly, sitting down on the step beside him. Sara watched them, blue eyes concerned for Thea and worrying about what this was doing to Oliver. She knew what he had to do; she had been there when Ra’s had rendered his judgment. The city needed Oliver Queen, the Green Arrow, to be strong and to fight against Malcolm Merlyn. But Oliver had lost his mother and now his sister was missing; combine that with all of the responsibilities that had been thrust on his shoulders and there could be a cost to it all. But she didn’t know how to alleviate that burden; she didn’t have the same passion for defending the people of Starling City, getting justice for them, that Oliver had. It would be just like the League if she tried to help him in his self-appointed mission. She needed to find something that was uniquely _hers_.

“I’m a terrible brother,” Oliver said quietly, thinking of not only Thea, but Emiko as well. When he had seen Beatrice and Tina in Central City, he had immediately leaped to the conclusion that Emiko had been planning to send Tina into his life all these years. But now that he thought about it, he realized how foolish that was. He didn’t even know if she was currently the leader of the Ninth Circle. From what he had found out in the future, becoming the leader of that group wasn’t easy, and as evidenced by how swiftly Beatrice had seized control of the Ninth Circle after Emiko turned on them, it was likely that even if Emiko _was_ the leader at this point in time, her status as such wasn’t stable in the least. All Emiko had wanted was to be _recognized_ , to be a part of their family. Oliver’s thoughts flashed back to the life raft and his father’s last wishes. There was _more_ wrongs than just Robert’s sins against Starling City. There was what he had done to Emiko and her mother. But all Oliver had thought of when he saw Beatrice and Tina was that maybe his sister wasn’t redeemable after all. “I’m a _terrible_ brother,” he said again, emphasizing the second-to-last word.

“You’re not,” Laurel told him, draping an arm around his shoulders and squeezing him comfortingly. “You love Thea and you’ve always wanted to protect her, especially from the darkness that’s choking the city. That isn’t a bad thing, Ollie. You’re not a bad brother. You just have other responsibilities, and you have to find a way to balance everything.”

“It’s not just Thea,” Oliver said, examining his hands and thinking of the blood that flowed beneath the skin, the blood that he still shared with two other people in this world. “I have another sister.” Laurel jerked slightly in place, staring at Oliver in shock, and Sara’s arms had unfolded as she joined Laurel in staring at him. “Her name is Emiko. Emiko Adachi. I’ve known about her for a while. I should’ve gone to see her, and her mother, but I haven’t, because I’m a coward. I didn’t want to rock the boat with my mother further than I already had. I’m a _coward_ ,” Oliver repeated in disgust.

“Hey, hey,” Laurel said, using both hands to turn Oliver’s head to face her. “You are _not_ a coward. You go out every night and you face sometimes dozens of men in order to get justice for the people of this city. A coward wouldn’t do that; he would have been hiding away in this mansion since he got back to the city. You are no coward, Oliver Queen. You’re _cautious_. You don’t know how this Emiko will react to you showing up, do you?” Oliver shook his head after a moment of silence. “You’re not a coward or afraid, Ollie. You’re _nervous_ , and that’s understandable. But you’ll find Thea. You’ll meet Emiko. You’ll do this, because that is who you are. Oliver Queen is a man who’s compassion knows no bounds. You’ll bring your family together again, Oliver, because to you, family is one of the most important things in the world.”

Oliver stared at Laurel, feeling a sense of peace settle into his chest. “Thank you for reminding me what I’m fighting for,” Oliver said quietly, taking one of Laurel’s hands in his own and intertwining their fingers. The two of them stared at one another, the world dropping away from them for a moment. Sara shifted uncomfortably on her feet at the visual evidence that Oliver and Laurel shared a bond that she would never have had with Ollie when it came right down to it. They truly were meant for each other; it was a bitter pill to swallow for someone who had thought of the promise she and Oliver had made to one another on Lian Yu, desperate as that promise had been since it encompassed their hope that they would one day make it home, something that seemed so distant to them at the time.

It was as she thought this that she realized she didn’t really have a place in Starling City. Once she was brought back to life officially, she would leave. Maybe she would move to Central City to be with her mother, who was supposed to be in town later today. Or maybe she would just travel for a while, try and find somewhere that she fit. Starling City wasn’t her home anymore; it hadn’t been for a long time. **_*1*_**

The silence between the three was broken by the chime from Oliver’s phone, signaling Fyff had something. Oliver put the phone on speaker and said, “What did you find, Henry?”

“Okay, I tracked her to the train station, and I hacked into their system to find out what tickets were paid for in cash since the surveillance footage shows Thea paying in cash. There was only one ticket paid for in cash at that time. You’re not gonna like this, boss.”

“Just tell me,” Oliver said.

“She’s headed for Metropolis,” Fyff said. “Any idea why?”

“Our mother pulled herself out of Suicide Slums in Metropolis,” Oliver said numbly. “She must be trying to track down other members of our mother’s family because she doesn’t think I can take care of her. Thank you, Henry.” Oliver hung up, slipped his phone in his pocket, and then leaned forward, his head in his hands as he pictured Thea, alone and confused and desperate for someone to love her, falling prey to the kind of scum that populated places like Suicide Slums, and that was if she didn’t get snatched up by human traffickers.

Sara made a snap decision. “Ollie, I’ll go to Metropolis and keep an eye on Thea, see if I can’t get her to come back home. Good thing Laurel got us an early slot in court to bring me back officially today,” she added softly, smiling at her sister. “Otherwise we’d have to put that off. But I can get resurrected and then head out immediately.”

“Thank you, Sara,” Oliver said. “Whatever expenses you have, I’ll take care of. I’ll set up an expense account for you to use. It’s the least I can do while you’re helping me keep my sister safe.” Sara opened her mouth, presumably to object, and Oliver held up a hand. “This is not up for discussion. I am a billionaire and I take care of the people I care about. You’re still one of those people, Sara, and so is Thea. Deal with the fact that I’m paying for your expenses.”

Sara huffed, and Laurel laughed softly. That was a sign of the old Oliver, from before the _Gambit_. He was always insisting on paying for things for both sisters, saying stuff like, “What good is money if I can’t spend it on the people I love?” It was nice to see a shadow of the boy he used to be in the man that he had become.

Slowly, Oliver and the Lance sisters left the mansion, Oliver heading back to his loft to get ready for another day while the Lance sisters returned to Laurel’s apartment to get ready for Sara’s day in court.

**_*DC*_ **

Oliver had set up the account for Sara and transferred a hefty sum into it. She would receive the card and checkbook attached to it via courier just as she was leaving the courthouse. Now, Oliver had another matter to attend to. He had looked into his half-sister, really taking a look at her. He hadn’t known she had a scientific background; she had a degree in Applied Sciences, and an idea began to form in Oliver’s mind. He wanted to show her that he wasn’t their father, that he wanted to be there for her, and he also needed someone he could trust to some degree to take over the position of the Head of Applied Sciences here at Queen Consolidated since he had no plans to give the position back to the odious Doug Miller. Why not give the position to his sister, as a sign of good faith?

Oliver knew it would take time to break through her walls and pull her away from the Ninth Circle. Nothing worthwhile was ever easy; he knew it was risky, putting her in a position of authority and revealing to the world that Robert Queen had been unfaithful, but if he won Emiko over, he would have a strong ally here at Queen Consolidated other than Ned Foster and he might also have a partner in his fight for Starling’s soul, since it would take sometime before Laurel and Roy, who he intended to approach soon, would be ready to join him in the field. Oliver pulled his keyboard into position and looked up the address for Kazumi Adachi, knowing from the time he had spent bonding with Emiko that she had stayed with her mother until the woman’s murder at Dante’s hands in 2018. Writing it out on a scrap of paper, Oliver left his office. “Tell Ned I’m going out on a recruiting mission,” he said to Mark, who nodded and continued working. Oliver shook his head at the man’s attention to his work and headed for the elevator. A sense of nervousness filled him as he stepped into the elevator.

Oliver knew that there was every chance Emiko would refuse the position out of anger at their father, but Oliver had a plan to convince her that this was something their father had wanted, even if it was a white lie. While Robert had not made any mention of Emiko directly on the raft, he _had_ asked Oliver to right his wrongs, and what had been done to Emiko and Kazumi was wrong, even if it had been the result of his mother’s actions.

**_*DC*_ **

Oliver straightened his jacket slightly out of nerves and then reached up, knocking on the door in front of him. He heard the sound of soft footsteps approaching the door, and then it swung open, revealing an older Japanese woman. “Ms. Adachi?” Oliver asked quietly.

“Yes,” the woman said, looking startled as she recognized the man on the other side of the door.

“My name is Oliver Queen,” Oliver said, introducing himself seeing as they had never officially met, even if the entire city knew who he was thanks to his press appearances of late. “I would like to discuss something with you and your daughter, if she’s home. It’s important.” He waited silently, knowing this would be the first hurdle in his effort to reunite his family to some degree.

Kazumi Adachi studied Oliver for a moment before saying, “Emiko is out on an errand. She’ll be back soon. Won’t you come in?” She stepped aside, allowing Oliver to enter.

“Thank you,” Oliver said as he stepped over the threshold and looked around. His attention was drawn to a picture on the table just inside the apartment. He moved forward, picking it up. Robert was in the picture, one arm around Kazumi and a hand on Emiko’s shoulder, the young girl in a Berlanti Prep uniform. Oliver vaguely recognized her from his own days at Berlanti Prep. She had always been there, just out of sight, for several years, and then she had vanished. He had always assumed that she had moved. But it appeared more likely, now, that without Robert paying her tuition she had been forced to attend public schools. Oliver knew where that edict would have come from: his mother. He set the picture down, conscious of Kazumi’s eyes on him, and followed her to the living room.

“Would you like anything to drink, Mr. Queen?” Kazumi asked.

“Just water would be fine, ma’am,” Oliver said respectfully. He had no idea that his picking up the photograph of his father with the Adachi women had stirred up unpleasant memories for Kazumi, who vividly recalled the time when Moira Dearden Queen had come to see her five years ago, while Emiko had been out, and informed her of Robert’s desire to provide for them, a desire that Moira was ensuring would never come to pass. Moira had coldly informed Kazumi that she would never allow Emiko to be acknowledged in any fashion and that she would ensure her husband’s ‘second family’ continued to suffer in squalor. For Oliver to come here and pick up the picture of Robert with her and Emiko as his mother had once done had Kazumi struggling, so she was grateful for the chance to duck away into the kitchen to compose herself while she fetched a glass of water for her ‘esteemed guest’.

She returned a few minutes later and handed the glass to Oliver. She took a seat on the couch, whereas he had taken a seat in the armchair that, unknowingly on his part, had been his father’s favorite to sit in when he visited Emiko. “Mr. Queen, I have to ask what brings you by?” Kazumi asked, trying to maintain a calm voice. She didn’t want Emiko to suffer any further heartbreak at the hands of the Queen family, the family she had so ardently wanted to recognize her. Emiko had longed to meet Oliver when they were younger, had even excitedly told Kazumi about the stuff Oliver got up to at Berlanti Prep while she had been there with him, but it had never happened. Emiko had faced so much heartbreak already from the Queens. Kazumi didn’t want her to face even more. “If you’re here to cause problems because of my affair with your father,” she began, but stopped as Oliver raised a hand.

“I’m not here to cause any problems, or to hurt you and Emiko, Ms. Adachi,” Oliver said. “I know you have no reason to trust me. I know what my mother did to you and Emiko after my father died. I know that she also made sure my father couldn’t support you and Emiko when she was younger. This was _wrong_ of my mother to do, Ms. Adachi. I’m not here to further make your lives difficult. In fact, I’m here to do the opposite, if you’ll only give me the chance.”

Kazumi eyed him suspiciously but nodded in agreement after a moment. If the Queen scion was in fact fucking with her and her daughter, she would slap him silly, richest man in Starling or no. The two sat in an uncomfortable silence until the door opened. “Mom, I’m back, the store was out of milk,” Emiko said, carrying a bag of groceries, which she took to the kitchen without looking into the living room. She returned, entering the living room, saying, “I was thinking about… about…” Emiko trailed off as she recognized the man sitting in the living room with her mother. She was shocked to see him there; _why_ was he here?

“Emiko, I’m sure you recognize our guest,” Kazumi said softly.

Oliver stood and offered his hand in greeting. “Hello, Emiko,” he said softly. After a moment, Emiko took his hand, and he shook it. “Why don’t you join us?” he said softly. “We have a lot to talk about.” Emiko slowly, silently took a seat beside her mother as Oliver returned to the armchair that their father had so favored when he would visit them. “Let’s just get this out in the open, shall we?” Oliver asked. “I know that Emiko is my sister. I’m here because family is the most important thing to me, and unlike my mother, I don’t believe in ignoring family because their existence is _inconvenient_. I’ve been working on building up my courage to come and see you both since I came back to Starling.”

“Why are you here, Mr. Queen?” Emiko said stiffly, even though hope was warring with her cynicism inside of her at hearing Oliver refer to her as family.

“Please, Emiko, call me Oliver,” he replied. “And like I said. You’re family, and family is important to me, no matter how it’s come about.” Oliver studied her for a moment. “I wish I had known about you when we were children,” he said softly. “It would have been nice to have a sister so close to me in age. I know it’s my mother’s fault. I’m sorry for all the pain and misery you’ve both suffered because of my parents. I know I can’t give you those years back, but I want to do _something_ for both of you.”

“Like what?” Kazumi asked quizzically.

“I’ve looked into Emiko,” Oliver replied. “I understand she has a degree in Applied Sciences. I want her to put that degree to good use. With my taking the position of C.E.O., Applied Sciences is without a head. I would like to offer Emiko that position. Even if she refuses, I intend to see that you both receive the support my father wanted you to have, retroactive to the day that he died. You deserve so much better than you’ve received courtesy of my mother’s obsession with presenting the _perfect_ nuclear family to the world.” Oliver leaned forward. “I would also like to offer you a position at Queen Consolidated again, Ms. Adachi. I understand if you would rather not, considering your history with my family, but the offer is there nonetheless.” Oliver leaned back. “Most importantly, I want to offer Emiko the chance to officially add Queen to her name. She is already a Queen in my books, but I’d like to make it official.”

“Why?” Emiko asked, overwhelmed. “Why are you doing this? Why would you? You could just ignore us even if you didn’t actively persecute us like your mother did. Why offer us everything we could ever hope for?” There had to be a catch; if there was anything she had realized in her dealings with her father and with Dante, who was as good as a father in his own way, it was that there was _always_ a catch.

“Because you’re _family_ ,” Oliver said, emphasizing the last word. “And because it’s what our father wanted.” He leaned forward. “What I’m about to tell you is known to very few people. Our father made it off of the _Queen’s Gambit_ with me and his bodyguard.”

“What?” Emiko choked. “Then why didn’t he come back with you?” Her father had survived the attempt by Malcolm Merlyn to kill him? The attempt Emiko had known about and kept quiet from him out of jealous spite over the man now sitting across from her?

“Because there wasn’t enough food and water for three men on the raft,” Oliver said quietly. “Dad’s final wish to me, before he killed his bodyguard and then himself, was for me to survive and to right his wrongs. I _know_ that one of those wrongs he wanted made right was what happened with the both of you. I know you think there has to be some catch to this, that I must have some motive, but I truly only want the best for the both of you. As I said, the job offers are there if you are willing, but even if you refuse them, you _will_ receive the money you should’ve been receiving for the past five years, and will continue to receive it for as long as you both live.” Oliver stood. “I truly hope you’ll come and work with me, Emiko. I need people at Queen Consolidated I can trust, especially in Applied Sciences. But I understand if you can’t accept my offer.” He gave a low bow to the both of them, surprising the two at his knowledge of Japanese culture, and then turned and left the apartment. **_*2*_**

**_*DC*_ **

Laurel Lance sighed as she closed the door of her apartment behind her. Sara had received the paperwork, debit card, and checkbook attached to her new account just after they had brought her back to life, which had earned a scowl from her father, wanting to know what Oliver Queen was up to, giving his youngest an expense account like she was his mistress or something. Laurel and Sara hadn’t taken too kindly to Quentin’s implications that they were both in a relationship with Oliver, and Sara had let her father know about Thea’s running away to Metropolis and that she had offered to go after her since Oliver had responsibilities in Starling City that he couldn’t get away from, letting their father think she meant Oliver’s work as C.E.O. of Queen Consolidated.

Their mother had also been mildly upset that Sara was already leaving town and forced a promise from Sara that once Thea was safely back home that she would come and visit Dinah for a while in Central City. It appeared that there was little chance of Dinah moving back to Starling and the Lance family reuniting, something Laurel knew her father had hoped there was a chance for now that Sara was back in their lives. The truth was, even before Sara had died, there had been problems in her parents’ marriage, and horrible things had been said before Dinah divorced Quentin and moved to Central City, things that couldn’t just be ignored or taken back.

Laurel set her keys down on the hallway table and sat down on her couch, curling her legs beneath her and resting her head on one hand, closing her eyes for a moment. It had been a busy day at C.N.R.I., most of it centered around the Declan case. The police had investigated the file and pressed Matt Istook on it’s existence, and Istook had finally broken, confessing to helping set Camille Declan up to be murdered by Ankov, Brodeur’s bodyguard who doubled as his personal fixer. Ankov was in the wind while Brodeur was now facing charges of conspiracy to commit murder, and the process had begun to release Peter Declan from prison. He would be released tomorrow, and Laurel had plans to take him to meet his daughter, having already arranged it with the social worker responsible for Izzy.

Laurel straightened up as she reached for the remote, figuring she would catch the news highlights before she headed over to Oliver’s for dinner. He had texted her, insisting they needed a normal date night, and she had accepted. A moment later, something long and thin wrapped around her neck from behind and constricted, pressing down on her windpipe and restricting her airways. Her hands shot up to the thin cord wrapped around her throat, writhing in place, legs kicking out as her hands scraped against the skin of her neck, trying to find purchase beneath the cord cutting off her air supply. Black spots appeared in her vision as the cord was pulled tighter, and her wheezing breath came in short, sharp gasps if it came at all. Finally, Laurel slumped backward, unconscious, and the cord loosened. Her attacker stepped around the couch and hauled her unconscious form up into a fireman’s carry. He was going to enjoy this; yes, he was going to enjoy this very much. **_*3*_**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter.
> 
> Chapter Notes:
> 
> *1* Like I said in a previous chapter, I’ve got a few plans for Sara and I’ve decided to go through with them. Looked at objectively, the truth becomes apparent that Sara doesn’t actually consider Starling her home. She abandons it and her loved ones there every chance she gets, even during her time on “Arrow”.
> 
> *2* I debated back and forth on what to do regarding Emiko and I eventually decided that for Oliver, to whom family is one of the most important things, he would try to bring his family back together, including Emiko. That is obvious from the outcome of the series finale of “Arrow”, where Moira has clearly accepted Emiko in contradiction to her typical nature. Now, whether Emiko eventually breaks away from the Ninth Circle is going to depend on how things play out between her and Oliver.
> 
> *3* Now, who is this? What dastardly plans do they have for the elder Miss Lance and what is going to happen when Oliver finds out his girlfriend has been attacked in her home for the third time in a month?


	30. Revelation

Oliver Queen, a covered dish in his hands, walked up the steps of Laurel’s building, feeling a little disappointed. He had hoped to have a normal night in with his girlfriend before he had to go to work in the Glades as Green Arrow, some degree of normalcy in his wild, insane life, but it appeared Laurel had forgotten or, more likely, gotten caught up in her work for C.N.R.I. She had told him things were wrapping up with the Declan case and that both Ankov and Brodeur were facing conspiracy to commit murder charges, though the former was still in the wind according to Laurel. Oliver walked down the hallway towards Laurel’s apartment, slowing as he took in the worrying sight of the door cracked open.

Oliver moved forward cautiously, pushing the door open and setting the dish he had put together for Laurel on the cabinet just inside of the door. He moved into her apartment, looking around. Her coffee table was pushed forward, and the fabric of her couch was looking rumpled, as if there had been a struggle in the apartment. _Not again,_ he groaned in his head. This was the _third_ time in a month Laurel had been attacked in her apartment. It was time to talk to her about moving, whether it was getting a new place or moving in with him. But first, he needed to find her, and for that, he needed help. He pulled out his encrypted phone and hit Fyff’s contact number. “Henry,” he said when the man picked up. “Laurel’s been kidnapped. I need you to find out by who and see if you can track them through the city. I’m on my way.”

“On it, boss,” Fyff said, and Oliver turned to go, only to stop in his tracks, because standing in the doorway was Tommy Merlyn, who was looking at Oliver in consternation.

“Ollie, what’s going on?” Tommy asked confusedly. “Where’s Laurel? And who were you just talking to on the phone?”

Oliver sighed. “It looks like Laurel’s been kidnapped. Again.”

“What!?” Tommy shouted. “We need to call the police!”

“Tommy,” Oliver said calmly, putting a hand on his best friend’s shoulder, “I’m handling it. By the time the police can even begin processing the scene, I’ll have her back. It would be a waste of resources for them.”

“Ollie, you’re the C.E.O. of Queen Consolidated, not some superhero,” Tommy exclaimed. “How are you supposed to get Laurel back before the police could even help?”

Oliver studied his friend. He hadn’t done much with Tommy because his best friend had no idea what he had been doing for the past month and lying to him all the time had been trying enough the first time around. But maybe, since Oliver hadn’t killed anyone but James Holder, maybe Tommy could accept Green Arrow in a way that he never accepted The Hood. “Come with me,” Oliver said, exiting the apartment and closing the door behind him. Tommy slowly followed Oliver, trying to figure out what was going on with his best friend. They had hardly talked since Oliver had returned from the dead a month ago, and now he was acting like a completely different person than the man he had always considered his brother. Tommy got into Oliver’s Camaro at a gesture from Oliver, leaving his own Porsche waiting on the curb outside of Laurel’s apartment. The drive through the city and into the Glades was silent because Tommy didn’t know what to say; he still thought they should be calling the cops, but there was something that stopped him.

Oliver pulled up in front of the empty office space that served as the front for the Bunker. “Come on,” Oliver said quietly. “I need to show you something.” Oliver and Tommy got out of the Camaro and entered the office space. Oliver moved a panel aside and flipped a switch. Tommy jumped as the hidden elevator door opened.

“What the hell is this?” Tommy whispered as the two young men entered the elevator.

Oliver turned to his friend. “Something that very few people know about,” Oliver said. “Thea couldn’t handle it. I’m hoping you can, because I’ll need you to keep your cool, Tommy. This is going to be hard to take.” Tommy stared at his friend, afraid of what was about to be revealed, and wondering what he meant about Thea not being able to handle whatever it was Oliver was about to reveal to him. The elevator descended quickly, and then opened to reveal some kind of high-tech command center, where a single man with wild dark hair and a grungy appearance was sitting behind a bank of computers. “Henry, how’s that search coming?” Oliver asked, stepping into the room. Tommy followed, only to stop and stare at the uniform that was currently adorning a mannequin, the bow in it’s stand, and the numerous stands containing all kinds of arrows, every last one of them tinted green. He turned to stare at his friend’s back as Oliver approached the man, Henry.

“Found the bastard easily enough, it was Ankov. He doesn’t even try to hide from the surveillance cameras, or he doesn’t think anyone can track him that way,” Fyff said, eyeing the other billionaire scion who had entered with Oliver warily. “I’m tracking where he took her now. I’ll have a location soon, boss.”

“Good,” Oliver said, turning back to Tommy, who was staring at the uniform with a blank expression on his face. Oliver stepped up to his best friend. “I know this is a lot to take in all at once,” he said quietly. “I’ve been trying to find the right way to tell you, so that I wouldn’t have to hide all of this from you the way I have been. But there were other things I had to consider, and those things kept me from telling you the truth. I’m sorry that I’m springing this on you, Tommy. Truly, I am.”

Tommy opened his mouth a couple of times, trying to find the words he wanted to say, but found he couldn’t figure out the words that he wanted to say. He closed his mouth, staring at the uniform that had been made infamous in the past four weeks as the Green Arrow made his way through the criminal underworld, crippling the Triad, taking down human traffickers, beating up rapists, and in general making a nuisance of himself. He remembered the dinner party where Oliver had let taken offense to Thomas Wilkins’ comment, and the way he and Laurel had stood as a united front. That in itself startled Tommy, because it meant that Laurel _knew_. She knew that the man who had been their friend since they could count their age in single digits was now a vigilante waging a one-man war against crime and corruption in a city that seemed to feed off of those things the way a tic fed off of the body.

Tommy also realized why Oliver’s comments to the press at the conference where he accepted the position of C.E.O. of Queen Consolidated had sounded so familiar, as though he had heard those words before. He _had_ heard them before, from a shadowy figure on the television screen that had declared his intention to be a symbol of hope against the darkness that plagued Starling City, to stand against crime, corruption, greed and tyranny. His best friend, his _brother_ , was going out every night and risking his life for strangers who had never met him, many of whom probably saw Oliver as a part of the problem. What had made his best friend into this person who could throw himself into such danger for people who would happily kick him if he was on the ground in front of them? What had turned his friend into _Robin Hood_?

Oliver could tell his friend was struggling and wished he could do something to ease this transition for Tommy, but unfortunately there was little that he could do to help Tommy come to terms with this. He hadn’t been able to ease it for Thea or Laurel, either, and while Laurel had been able to handle it, Thea had proved incapable of it, something Oliver wished wasn’t true. He cursed China White for forcing his sister to confront the reality of her brother’s nature rather than allowing Thea to continue to live in ignorance until she was ready for such a burden of knowledge. He had hoped that being there for her would help her accept the truth, but it had turned out to not be enough. He remembered that Tommy, even though he believed Oliver was a serial killer, had never once gone to the police and turned him in, and so he knew his friend was strong enough. He just needed time to come to terms with this revelation. **_*1*_**

Oliver moved to stand beside Fyff. “How’s it coming, Henry?” he said.

“They’re definitely in the Glades, less surveillance, but that just means I have to get crafty, using shops’ surveillance systems on occasion,” Fyff said. He eyed Tommy, who was still just standing there, looking at Oliver’s uniform and weaponry. “Think he’ll be able to handle it?” he asked quietly.

“I do,” Oliver said softly. “He just needs time to process, is all.” Fyff nodded. It wasn’t like he knew Tommy personally but considering Thea hadn’t been able to handle it in the end, he worried about how the boss would handle it if his best friend reacted badly to all of this.

A beeping came from the computer. Fyff double-checked everything. “Got them. There’s a tenement building. The Guggenheim Projects. It’s under the control of some Albanians. They’ve got ties to gun running and drugs. Some new thing called Vertigo.”

“I see,” Oliver said softly. He hadn’t realized that Vertigo was already on the streets. Then again, it would’ve taken time to gain the traction it had by the time Thea had succumbed to it in a few months’ time. It made sense that The Count had to make deals with the likes of these Albanians in the beginning. “Keep an eye on it, Henry. If they move, I want to know. See if you can’t get eyes inside the building, find a way to track Laurel and Ankov to wherever they are.”

“I’ll try, but no promises, projects like this don’t usually have any kind of surveillance,” Fyff said as Oliver moved to the mannequin, shedding his leather jacket before gripping the hem of his sweater and pulling it off in one smooth motion, exposing his bare torso and the scars that littered it to Tommy, including a couple of fresh injuries and the bruises from some of the lucky hits thugs had got in with baseball bats or fists. Tommy made a choking sort of noise. Oliver ignored it as he fell into the usual pattern, quickly transforming from Oliver Queen, billionaire C.E.O., into Green Arrow, Starling’s champion of the defenseless. Oliver turned to Tommy, hood and mask still down.

Tommy finally found his voice. “How?” he rasped. “How did you become… this?”

“By learning that there are people in this world who deal only in extremes, and it is naïve to think that anything less than extreme measures will stop them,” Oliver said. “People like those you and I grew up with need extreme examples to shake them out of apathy, and I couldn’t do that as Oliver Queen. As a man, I’m flesh and blood. I can be ignored or destroyed. But as a symbol? I can be incorruptible; I can be everlasting.” Oliver turned and began selecting his arsenal of arrows to take with him, placing them in his quiver and mounting five basic arrows on the flechette around his left forearm. He always took a small supply of basic lethal arrows, just in case. **_*2*_**

“Ollie, this is _insane,_ ” Tommy emphasized. “Starling’s been like this for decades. You think you can turn it around?”

Oliver strapped on his now-full quiver and snatched up his bow from it’s stand before turning to face his best friend. “I know I can,” he said, before reaching up and securing his mask in place and flipping his hood up. He spent a moment letting Tommy soak in the sight of him before turning and heading for the small garage just off the main room. Tommy watched him go, trying to wrap his head around the idea that _Oliver_ was the Green Arrow.

**_*DC*_ **

Green Arrow pulled up in front of the Guggenheim Projects and dismounted. “ **Anything to report?** ” he asked Fyff through the comms.

“ _Managed to track them to the third floor cuz of some illegal surveillance the Albanians put into place for their own operation,_ ” Fyff replied.

“ **Good,** ” Green Arrow replied. “ **That’ll make it easier.** ” He moved forward, gripping his bow and ignoring the whispers and pointing fingers. The tone of the whispers was awed and the expressions of those pointing fingers speculative, like they wondered what the Green Arrow was doing here. The Emerald Archer entered the projects and found himself confronted with a couple of Albanians. “ **This can go one of two ways,** ” Green Arrow informed the two silent men. “ **You and your men can decide to try and stop me, and I beat the hell out of everyone of you. Or you can let me do what I came here to do and leave in peace. A man named Ankov brought Laurel Lance to the third floor of this building. Let me get there peacefully and I promise not to interfere in your operation.** ” _For now,_ Green Arrow added silently, knowing h would be back within 24 hours to clean out this den of scum. He just didn’t want to have to fight through a dozen or so men when Ankov could be doing terrible things to Laurel.

“Ankov paid us good money to keep you busy,” one Albanian said, raising his weapon.

“ **Fair enough,** ” Green Arrow muttered before throwing a dart into the Albanian’s median nerve, crippling his ability to pull the trigger. Green Arrow moved forward, delivering a knife-hand strike to the other Albanian’s throat causing him to gag reflexively and drop his own weapons. Green Arrow delivered one, two, three blows, striking the man in the stomach, the jaw, and finally the back of the head. The man collapsed to the ground, and Green Arrow moved to the man who’s median nerve he had severed with the dart. He grabbed him by the collar and delivered three debilitating blows to the man’s skull, knocking him unconscious. Green Arrow stepped into the hallway, his blue eyes taking in the dozen or so thugs between him and the staircase to the higher levels.

He nocked an explosive arrow and sent it into the midst of a group of thugs; the arrowhead detonated, leaving the men wailing on the ground with second- and third-degree burns. Another arrow, this time a sleeping gas arrow, was nocked and fired into the midst of a cluster of men, who stumbled forward in an almost-drunken fashion as the gas took effect. A magnetic arrow stripped the next group of their weapons, followed by bolo arrows to truss them up. Thugs rushed in from behind Green Arrow armed with bats, and Green Arrow blocked blows with his bow and delivered a punishing strike to the solar plexus of one man before dislocating his jaw with a solid right hook that was backed up by the brass-knuckle grip of his bow. Green Arrow delivered a backwards kick to one man’s groin, shot a bolo arrow at another man as he rushed him, turned and delivered a knife-hand strike to another man’s throat before delivering a triple blow with bow against three men, twirling in place as he did so.

Green Arrow stepped passed the groaning pile of men and faced the final group. He gave them a cold, cruel smile and tilted his head to the side in a considering fashion. The men, all of whom were unarmed, took one look at the pile of men behind him, groaning with the occasional arrow sticking out of them, wrapped up in cord, burned, or just plain beaten down by Green Arrow’s superior hand-to-hand skills. They made the smart choice and broke away, heading into the rooms to either side and slamming the doors behind them. Green Arrow gave a dark chuckle and headed for the staircase. He loved it when thugs were smart and just gave up. It made his job so much easier. **_*3*_**

Green Arrow made his way to the third floor without incident. “ **I’m on the third floor, which room is it?** ” he asked Fyff over the comms.

“ _Sixth door on your left,_ ” Fyff replied. Green Arrow made his way to the door and kicked it in, nocking a basic arrow and entering the rundown apartment as Ankov grabbed Laurel from the moth-eaten mattress, her hands bound behind her back, and pulled her close, one hand gripping her chin and forcing her head up to expose her throat to the knife he pressed against it.

“Hold it right there, vigilante,” Ankov snarled. “One more step, and your precious lawyer friend will be arguing out of a new hole.”

“Shoot him!” Laurel rasped out. Ankov shook her head in his grip, earning a whimper from her.

“Shut up, bitch!” Ankov growled before turning his attention back to Green Arrow. “You and this interfering bitch cost me a lucrative contract. You don’t get to walk away from that.”

“ **Funny,** ” Green Arrow said coldly. “ **I was going to say the same thing about you threatening Miss Lance.** ” Laurel’s green eyes widened at that. She had thought if Green Arrow did shoot Ankov it would be in the arm or something. But if he was going to do what she thought…

“Don’t kill him,” Laurel pleaded with Green Arrow. “Don’t sacrifice everything you’ve been fighting for to save me.”

Green Arrow was taken back to two other times people he cared about told him not to sacrifice the progress he had made to save them. First had been Felicity when The Count was threatening her at Queen Consolidated. The second had been Barry when Deegan had him during Elseworlds. Green Arrow closed his eyes, recalling his lessons with Yao Fei, and then opened his eyes. He adjusted his grip and his aim… and then loosed the arrow. It crossed the distance between he and Ankov, piercing Ankov’s forearm. The fixer screamed, his muscles betraying him, and Laurel used the temporary loss of strength in his grip to break free and run to Green Arrow, who fired a bolo arrow and wrapped up Ankov. Green Arrow delivered one final, crushing blow to Ankov’s skull, knocking him out. “ **Contact the S.C.P.D., let them know where they can find Ankov,** ” he told Fyff. “ **Tell Tommy that Laurel’s safe.** ”

“ _Will do, G.A.,_ ” Fyff replied.

“Tommy?” Laurel asked confusedly.

“ **He showed up at your place before I left, and I took him to the Bunker to show him why we didn’t need to call the cops,** ” Green Arrow replied as he cut Laurel’s bonds. He took her shoulders in both hands. “ **Are you alright?** ”

“It’s not my first abduction,” Laurel tried to joke, but it fell flat at the tremor in her voice. Green Arrow pulled her into a hug, and she wrapped her arms around his torso, leaning her head against his chest and closing her eyes, listening to the steady beat of his heart. “Let’s go,” she said after a few minutes. “I’m guessing Tommy’s gonna have questions.”

“ **Probably,** ” Green Arrow said, and the two left the rundown apartment.

**_*DC*_ **

“Laurel!” Tommy exclaimed in relief as Laurel and Oliver, whose mask and hood were down now that they were back in the safety of the Bunker, entered. Oliver set his bow on it’s stand and swung his quiver down, returning the arrows he hadn’t used to their proper place. “Are you okay?” Tommy asked, fingers lightly touching the thin bruise circling around Laurel’s throat from where Ankov had strangled her with a cord to capture her.

“I’m fine, Tommy,” Laurel rasped. “Throat’s a little sore, but I’m alive, thanks to Ollie.”

“Right. Ollie,” Tommy said, looking at where his best friend was disappearing behind a screen to change. “I still can’t believe it. Any of it. Ollie being the Green Arrow, this place… that he put you in danger.”

“He didn’t put me in danger,” Laurel said defensively. “He’s done his best to keep me out of danger. He rescued me when no one else was willing to do what was needed to find me when I was kidnapped. He put himself in harm’s way to keep me safe from China White. He’s handled all the dangerous parts of the case we just worked, the Declan case. It was the cops who let Ankov slip away so that he could attack me in my apartment. And again, Ollie saved my life.”

“Laurel,” Tommy started, but stopped, knowing it was useless. He could tell that Laurel had completely fallen for Oliver’s ‘rebel with cause’ attitude as Green Arrow. He tried to tamp down on the jealousy he felt, reminding himself that Laurel had always chosen Oliver in the end. Theirs had never been a _meaningful_ relationship. “I just don’t like seeing you hurt,” he finally said, feeling it was a bit lame to say something so obvious.

Laurel’s expression softened. “I know, Tommy,” she said, giving him a gentle hug. “Neither does Ollie. He’s been trying to teach me to defend myself the way he does, just in case.” _Just in case your Dad decides to do something to me,_ Laurel finished in her head. She wondered if Oliver was going to tell Tommy about his father or if that was going to remain a secret. She wouldn’t blame Oliver if he chose not to reveal it, since Tommy was obviously having a hard time accepting Oliver was Green Arrow. She had taken two weeks of being suspicious before she had finally gotten confirmation from Oliver. Tommy was getting it all at once, kind of like Thea. She hoped he handled it better than Oliver’s sister had. She wondered how old his other sister, Emiko, was and if he had tried to reach out to her yet.

Oliver returned from behind the curtain. “Why don’t we go back to Laurel’s?” he said. “I did leave her the dish I had fixed up for her, and I’m sure she needs something after her experience.”

“Oh, we were supposed to have a date night tonight,” Laurel remembered, feeling disappointed. It seemed like all of her and Oliver’s ‘couple time’ was taken up in some way with his business as Green Arrow. Were they ever going to get a chance at normal relationship stuff?

“We’ll do it another time,” Oliver said. “I’m not gonna give up on normal couple stuff if I can help it, Laurel.” She smiled at him and at a nod from Tommy, the three headed for the elevator.

**_*DC*_ **

Malcolm Merlyn, currently ensconced in his lair within Merlyn Global, stood looking down at the picture of he and Rebecca with eight-year-old Tommy. His thoughts were caught up in recent events.

He had had to abandon his plans to punish Walter’s sister for his defiance. The F.B.I. had contacted Scotland Yard and informed them of the circumstances of Walter’s demise, and Malcolm’s agents in England had revealed Scotland Yard was keeping an annoyingly close watch on Cynthia Steele. It was a small thing, but it still annoyed him. He was a man who liked to keep the promises of vengeance that he made, even to those who weren’t here to witness it. After all, that was the whole point of using Queen Consolidated’s Applied Sciences division to weaponize the Markov device when it was ready. A final revenge on Robert for his betrayal, destroying the company his family had painstakingly built over two generations and ruining the Queen name forevermore in Starling City while the name Merlyn soared to new heights as the saviors of Starling.

Things were going well on that front, of course. Oliver was proving amenable, if a bit idealistic with his desire to re-open the Queen steel factory. If the boy wanted to sink money into that only to lose all that money when the factory was destroyed along with the rest of the Glades, well, who was Malcolm to correct his foolish mistake. However, he had lost one of his pressures to use against Oliver for the time being. Thea had run away; Malcolm’s agents were trying to track her down again so that she could be used. In the meantime, Malcolm still had Laurel and, according to what his contacts in the courts had informed him about, likely the newly-resurrected Sara Lance as well.

So, Sara had survived the _Gambit_ as well. She was made of stronger stuff than he had believed, then; he had thought her weak-willed and more interested in sleeping her way through life than anything else. She was the kind of clingy, whiny girls that Tommy seemed to accrue as lovers at an alarming rate. He shuddered at the possibility that, left unable to pursue Laurel, Tommy might pursue Sara and bring her into their family.

But Oliver had also revealed a potential new source of pressure to be used. He had visited a woman and her daughter today, a woman Malcolm recalled Robert having had relations with. The woman’s daughter was only a couple of years younger than Oliver, and there was no reason for Oliver to visit some random family unless there was a special connection… such as Robert’s love child. So, Oliver had another sibling which Malcolm could use as a pressure against the younger man. It was always so satisfying when those he planned to manipulate gave him the tools to do so. He had his men researching everything they could about the woman and her daughter, so that he had the information ready when he finally began to apply pressure to Oliver.

The biggest problem was, of course, the F.B.I. and their investigation into the _Gambit_ and Walter’s murder. He would need to arrange for something that would give them closure on the matter. If they continued to pursue things after he gave them a potential way to close the case and move on, well… he would need to get creative, wouldn’t he?

The march towards the destruction of the Glades and the salvation of Starling City continued, regardless of the whims of others. The grand orchestra Malcolm was conducting was reaching it’s crescendo, and nothing could be allowed to stand in the way. **_*4*_**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter.
> 
> Chapter Notes:
> 
> *1* You know, when I was writing this chapter, this little gem of information occurred to me. Tommy, despite his anger at Oliver and his disgust at his actions, never once went to the cops, and the one time he could’ve had Oliver arrested, he instead transformed the Foundry into a storage space, hiding the truth of Oliver’s operation from Lance.
> 
> *2* Originally, “Arrow” took a great deal of inspiration from Christopher Nolan’s “Dark Knight Trilogy”. This is my nod to do that; and it helps that it fits Oliver’s crusade as well as it did Batman’s in “Batman Begins”.
> 
> *3* You would think that there’d be some thugs who watch Oliver own their buddies and be just like, “Nope. Not gonna happen. Bye!”
> 
> *4* Ah, Malcolm… ever confident that all will play out as you have designed… Sadly for you, there’s a fly in the ointment, an annoying crusader who likes to meddle in the affairs of the wealthy and corrupt…


	31. Questions

Three hours after her rescue, Laurel was on the couch in the loft, her boyfriend’s arm wrapped around her. They had stopped by her apartment briefly to grab the dish Oliver had left there, but as soon as she had entered Laurel felt the anguish and desperation she had felt while being strangled from behind come flooding back, and she had told Oliver she couldn’t stay there. And so they had come to Oliver’s loft, Tommy following behind in his Porsche, and had been there ever since. “How do you think Tommy’s taking everything?” Laurel asked her boyfriend, shifting slightly to lean in closer to him and lay her head on his chest.

“I don’t know,” Oliver said honestly. Tommy’s reactions in both timelines were atypical of what he would have expected. In the original timeline, Tommy hadn’t asked the multitude of questions Oliver had expected, just asked if Oliver was ever going to tell him the truth. Now, in the new timeline, Tommy had said nothing. He had made sure Oliver and Laurel got to the loft safely and then left, saying he needed some air. “Tommy is a good man, though. I don’t think he’ll betray me. Not willingly. And it’s not like he’s close to Malcolm. His father won’t find out about Green Arrow from Tommy. Of that much, I’m sure.”

“I didn’t even think of that,” Laurel said. “I was more thinking about how he’s handling you doing what you do every night. God knows that even though I’ve seen you in action, I get worried knowing you’re out there.”

“Oh,” Oliver said softly. He was silent for a few moments, thinking over _that_ aspect of it all, and said, “To be perfectly honest, Laurel, I haven’t thought about how people would feel about me throwing myself into danger in years. I’ve become so used to it, and I know how to handle myself. I’m sorry you’re so worried, but please know that I am _always_ going to come back to you, pretty bird.”

“You haven’t called me that in years,” Laurel said softly, turning her head up to look at him. “Why now?”

“It felt right,” Oliver said, bestowing a gentle kiss on her forehead. It was a name that he had called her when they were younger because she was always darting around with bird-like grace, but he had fallen out of practice using it as their relationship grew strained. He ruthlessly shoved aside the remembrance of Earth-2’s Adrian Chase using _his_ nickname for Laurel on the one that Oliver felt hadn’t truly earned the title of Black Canary, not in the way this Laurel had, fighting against odds stacked against her and discovering her own mission away from Sara’s initial methods.

“Well I missed it,” Laurel said, snuggling in closer to him, eyes drooping slightly. Oliver leaned his head against hers, eyes closing as well. The two lovers slowly dozed off, comforted by one another’s presence. **_*1*_**

**_*DC*_ **

Tommy Merlyn didn’t know how he felt. He had driven to a bluff a few miles outside of Starling City and was now looking out across the dark ocean, the moon shining down on him from above and lighting up the night. His best friend was the vigilante that had been causing problems for the wealthy and corrupt during the past month. His best friend was the Green Arrow, and he had set for himself an impossible task. Starling City was a cesspit and had been for years. It was more so now; like Tommy had told Oliver during their day out before those guys kidnapped them, the city had gone to crap since his disappearance. Yet Ollie thought he could fight the inevitable, bring the city back from the brink.

“What happened to you, man?” Tommy mumbled, picturing his best friend in his mind’s eye, dressed in the uniform of the Green Arrow and fighting dozens of faceless thugs armed with bats and automatics. “What madness makes you think you can change the way the city’s been for decades?” It was a fool’s errand, Tommy decided firmly. His best friend had set himself for a bitter, crushing failure, and worse, he was dragging Laurel along for the ride. He had even _killed_ someone, and Tommy honestly didn’t know how he felt about that.

But the thing his mind kept circling back to beyond anything else was that image of his best friend fighting legions of faceless thugs in his never-ending war against crime and corruption in Starling City, until one lucky thug got in a hit and knocked his friend down. Then the scum would swarm, his best friend would be left a mutilated corpse, and the Glades would have claimed the life of another person that he loved. Two, if Laurel continued to follow Oliver into this madness. His best friends were both high-minded crusaders who couldn’t see that they were fighting a losing war. How could he get them to _stop_ , to _think_?

No wonder Thea hadn’t been able to handle this, as Oliver claimed. She had just discovered her brother was throwing himself into danger for people who would never give a damn if he died doing it and would continue in their self-destructive ways as they had for decades. The crime and corruption in the Glades wasn’t new, it was just more open and obvious. Thea had lost both of her parents and her stepfather to people who had no morals, and now she was living with the constant knowledge that her brother was throwing himself into danger every night for people who didn’t deserve it. Tommy had noticed Thea wasn’t at the loft, but decided to wait to confront Oliver about that, even though his stomach churned at the thought that Thea might be in trouble. But that couldn’t be the case, otherwise Ollie would be a nervous wreck. Right? He couldn’t be so focused on his mad plan to save Starling City that he would ignore the impact on Thea to her detriment…

Tommy felt his stomach churn as he realized he wasn’t so certain that this Oliver _wouldn’t_ put his mad plan over Thea, because Oliver had proven earlier tonight that the man Tommy thought he knew was a mask. Green Arrow was the one who had been rescued from that island; Oliver Queen was just a mask. His best friend was gone. **_*2*_**

**_*DC*_ **

It was morning at the loft, and Oliver was fixing breakfast for he and Laurel. This morning, it was waffles and sausage links. Laurel was sipping at her coffee. Oliver set a plate down in front of her before serving up a plate for himself. The two sat at the counter, eating slowly, savoring the time together. Finally, Oliver looked up at his girlfriend. “Would you consider moving in here on a permanent basis?” he asked. She looked up, green eyes blinking in surprise. He continued on, “I know it’s sudden, since we’ve only been dating again for a couple of weeks, but we’ve known each other for years and it’s not like we’re incompatible. And I really want you to be safe and this building isn’t as easy to get into…” Oliver trailed off as he noticed the amused expression on Laurel’s face. “What?” he asked self-consciously.

“Where did you learn to babble like that?” Laurel asked, and Oliver’s jaw dropped. He _had_ been babbling, giving Felicity, Barry, Kara, Curtis, and Cisco a run for their money. Laurel reached across the counter and put a hand on Oliver’s. “Believe me, Ollie, nothing would make me happier than to move in with you, because it’s something I’ve wanted for years.”

“But?” Oliver said, knowing there was a ‘but’.

“But we’re still finding out who we are now,” Laurel said. “We’re not the same kids we were five years ago. As similar as we are, it shouldn’t be too long before we are moving in together. But I want it to feel right and doing so two weeks after we start dating again doesn’t feel right. But I assume you can give me a good reference for getting an apartment in this building?” she asked.

“Yeah, I can do that,” Oliver said with a nod. At least she would be close by. That was enough for him.

“Alright, I’ll make an appointment with the landlord and start making arrangements,” Laurel said. “In the meantime, I’ll probably be here more often while I get ready to move. I-I don’t feel comfortable going back to my apartment, being alone for hours on end in a building where I’ve been attacked three times.”

“You’re always welcome here, Laurel,” Oliver said, squeezing her hand gently. She smiled and turned back to her breakfast. **_*3*_**

**_*DC*_ **

A couple of hours later, Laurel had gone back to her apartment to get ready for work at C.N.R.I. and Oliver was checking his e-mail. He had received a message from Sara, telling him she had arrived in Metropolis and was searching for Thea. He was glad someone he trusted was looking for his sister and he knew Sara wouldn’t let anything happen to Thea. Oliver’s sister had been like a surrogate little sister for both of the Lance sisters. Oliver wished he could be there for Thea, but there was simply too much going on here in Starling for him to take days away to try and find Thea. Though he had every intention, once Sara found Thea and had her in hand, to cut Thea off. Cancel her credit cards, freeze her accounts, all of it. He had told Thea that if she acted like a child that he would treat her life one. She would be lucky if he allowed her the typical $100 allowance she was used to.

Oliver had called in to find out if there was any pressing matters that he needed to take care of as C.E.O. at Queen Consolidated today, and Ned Foster had informed him there wasn’t. So, he was getting ready to head to the Bunker, where Fyff would be working on tracking Leo Mueller. Even if he couldn’t go out just yet, he wanted to know where Mueller was. Having access to A.R.G.U.S. resources was nice, but Oliver was making plans to have the Applied Sciences division design their own satellite, one he could tap into as Green Arrow, so that he wouldn’t be as beholden to A.R.G.U.S. and Amanda Waller as much as he was now. Personally, he wanted to turn Mueller over to the S.C.P.D. or F.B.I., but a deal was a deal. Mueller would go to Waller, who would probably press him into service to provide her wetworks teams with black market weapons. Letting a man like Mueller go curdled Oliver’s gut, and he was asking himself he really could go through with this.

There was a knock at the door. Oliver moved from the counter where he had been checking his e-mail and opened the door to find Tommy on the other side. “Come on in, Tommy,” Oliver said, stepping back and swinging the door open to let his best friend enter. Tommy stepped inside and Oliver closed the door behind him. “Laurel told me something last night that I hadn’t thought of,” Oliver said. “She told me that one of your biggest concerns might be the danger I’m putting myself in. Is that something she’s right about?”

“Yeah,” Tommy said softly, turning to face Oliver. “But it’s really just a footnote. I drove out to the bluff we used to cliff-dive from. Remember it?” Oliver nodded. “I sat out there for hours, just thinking about all of this, going over it in my head. And there are things that I just don’t get.”

“Well, I’ll answer any questions you have,” Oliver said, feeling content that Tommy wasn’t acting like he had in the past timeline about all of this. “What do you want to know?”

“Why?” Tommy asked.

“Why what?” Oliver asked in return.

“Why would you do this?” Tommy asked. “What you’re doing is _insane_. You’re fighting for a city that will never change. You’re setting yourself up for a crushing failure, dragging Laurel along with you, and the both of you are so blinded by your desire to help people who don’t deserve it that you won’t see the truth. One of these days, Oliver, one of these faceless thugs you fight is gonna land a lucky blow, and then you’re going to die. If that wasn’t bad enough, you’re dragging Laurel into it, putting her in danger with this mad crusade of yours. I don’t want to see my _best friends_ die for a losing cause.”

“It’s not a losing cause, Tommy,” Oliver said, his tone passionate. “The people in this city have just been so without hope, without a vision of a better future for themselves, that they’ve lost that spark of life that made this city great when we were children. They need something to give them that spark back again. The crime and corruption is choking the life out of this city, and someone needs to do something about it. The people need to _see_ that life isn’t completely filled with darkness. The people need to see that there are those who are willing to fight for a brighter future and bring this city back from the brink of collapse!”

“And you’re going to bring it back from the brink all by yourself?” Tommy asked skeptically. “What does Thea think about this? Where is she, anyways?” Oliver faltered for the first time, and Tommy noticed. “What is it? Where’s Thea?” Tommy asked, feeling a sense of urgency that he couldn’t quite explain.

“Thea… needed something from me that I couldn’t give,” Oliver said reluctantly. He knew he was a terrible brother, and he knew Tommy was going to pounce on this. But he also knew that he was doing what was best for Starling City. The war for Starling’s soul couldn’t be abandoned, no matter how much it pained him to not be there for his sister when she needed him. “She needed me to be here for her. She asked me to stop being the Green Arrow. I couldn’t. She’s run away. We found out she went to Metropolis. Sara went after her.”

“Sara!” Tommy demanded. “What the hell? I thought she was dead!”

“No, she’s alive,” Oliver said. “Laurel handled resurrecting her yesterday. I gave her an expense account to use while she tracks down Thea and keeps an eye on her. Once Sara has Thea, I’m cutting Thea off. She’s acting like a child, and I’m going to treat her like one.”

“She _is_ a kid!” Tommy shouted, and shocked Oliver by lashing out with a clumsy right hook. It barely phased Oliver, who turned back to face Tommy with a blank expression on his face. “She’s just a kid whose lost both of her parents and her stepfather and needed her brother to be there for her! Was your goddamn crusade so much more important than your sister’s well-being?”

“Believe me, Tommy, I wanted to be there for her, but there were other things I had to do,” Oliver said. “I’m Queen Consolidated’s C.E.O. and I’m fighting a war for Starling’s soul against corrupt and powerful people who don’t want to see the status quo changed. That requires a certain kind of tenacity, and unfortunately that mission comes at a cost. I don’t have much of a personal life, as you saw last night. I can’t be what Thea wants me to be. I have to put Starling above everything else.” Tommy tried again to punch Oliver, but this time Oliver blocked the punch. “Don’t do that, you’ll hurt yourself more than me,” Oliver added.

“You son of a bitch!” Tommy snarled. “Thea is _your sister!_ You’ve just lost the rest of your _family_! You’re _only priority_ should be her! Not the city and people who don’t deserve the sacrifices that you’re making for them!”

“Who are you to make that judgment?” Oliver asked in return. “I love this city. I love the _people_ of this city. I am fighting for a better future for all of them. I wish it didn’t come at the cost of my relationship with Thea, but I can’t just ignore the suffering that goes on every night and sit at home holding Thea’s hand! I have to help as many people as possible, not just one girl!”

“I’d give _anything_ to have a sister!” Tommy shouted at his friend. “I’d give _anything_ to have had the family you did! Instead, all I have is my father, who looks at me in disgust and thinks I need to toughen up. And you’ll just put all that aside for the sake of people who wouldn’t even give you the time of day if you were bleeding out in the street!”

“There are still good people in this city! They just need to be reminded of who they are!” Oliver snapped back. “I didn’t survive five years of hell just to go back to being a playboy who coasted through life and ignored the suffering of other people! I can’t be the person you remember, Tommy. This was what Thea couldn’t accept; that I’m not the person I was when she was a child. I have to do what is best for the entire city.”

“And what about Laurel?” Tommy asked. Oliver frowned in confusion. “What happens when one of these psychos that you’re challenging tries to make you choose between Laurel and the people of this city? Which will you choose? The woman you love or the people who would sooner spit on you then lend a helping hand?”

“I’d find a way to do both,” Oliver said calmly, meeting his friend’s incredulous gaze with serious eyes. “I would find a way to help the people of this city _and_ save Laurel.”

“You’re not some hero from a comic book, Oliver,” Tommy said caustically. “You’re just a man, a man with a bow and arrow. You can’t save this city. It doesn’t _want_ to be saved.”

“If you really think that, Tommy, why are you still here?” Oliver asked. “Why don’t you ask your father to transfer you to another division of Merlyn Global, away from the city you think is a cesspit?”

“Maybe I will,” Tommy said. “But I know one thing. I’m not gonna depend on Sara Lance to be there for Thea when she’s struggling. I’m leaving for Metropolis. I’ll be there for Thea if you won’t.” Tommy turned on his heel and left the loft. Oliver watched him go, feeling something crystalize within him. He had never heard Tommy speak that way about the people of the city. He hadn’t acted like that before, had he? But then Oliver realized the major difference between this timeline and the last one. In the last timeline, Tommy had been desperate to impress Laurel, and had changed into a better man as a result. But that hadn’t been happening here, and because of that, he was faced with the ugly truth that his best friend was a part of the problem. He was a member of the elite who looked down their noses at the poor, the disenfranchised, the victimized, and sneered in disgust.

But the argument had also helped him realize something. He couldn’t continue to play favors with Amanda Waller. He could not, _would not_ allow a monster like Leo Mueller to walk free, allowed to peddle his lethal merchandise so long as he provided A.R.G.U.S. wetworks teams with their weapons. That wasn’t who he was anymore; that wasn’t who the world needed Green Arrow to be. Oliver gathered up his jacket and headed out of the loft. If Waller wanted Mueller so badly, she could spring him from the custody of the S.C.P.D. or F.B.I. Mind, once he was in custody, he was burned anyways so he would be next to useless to Waller, especially if he started singing to the authorities in exchange for a lesser sentence. **_*4*_**

**_*DC*_ **

Talia al Ghul sat silently behind her desk as she listened to the report that her acolyte was giving her about recent events in Starling City. Having set her latest student to return to his home and begin cleaning it up, Talia had been expecting to hear of the hooded vigilante who was acting as judge, jury, and executioner, performing an act of true justice and replacing evil with death, as she had taught him, as her father had taught her. Instead, Oliver Queen was squandering the training that she had given him to play Robin Hood. He had only killed once, when the justice system had failed to convict using the evidence he provided. Everyone else, he had only done what was necessary to gather evidence to provide the police.

Worse still, he was not acting as a shadow in the dark, the way that she had trained him. He had hacked into the emergency alert system of Starling City to deliver a message of hope to the people who were victimized by the wealthy and corrupt of the city, and a message of warning to the one responsible for the state Starling City was in, her father’s former Horseman, Malcolm Merlyn. Oh, yes, she knew about the actions of her father’s ex-Horseman and that was why she had chosen Oliver Queen to exact justice against the man. Malcolm Merlyn was no longer an honorable warrior, but an international terrorist who had aided Konstantin Kovar in his bid to return Russia to it’s original oligarchy, something which Oliver had helped stop in its tracks. It puzzled Talia. In Russia, Oliver had done what was necessary, and gladly so. But now he insisted on playing the hero in the light of day and was unwilling to do all that was necessary and replace evil with death.

What had happened to her student, the one who had shown so much promise? This bore further consideration and potentially investigation. For now, she would keep an eye on the matter from afar. Perhaps this was merely a ruse from her student, to draw Merlyn into a false sense of security before he struck him down. Though she was curious as to how her student had divined that there was someone behind all of the horrible things happening in Starling City. He hadn’t seemed to clue into that during those months of instruction in Russia.

Yes. This bore further consideration and investigation. Something was off about her former student, and Talia would get to the bottom of it if things continued on as they were. **_*5*_**

**_*DC*_ **

Malcolm Merlyn looked up from his desk, where he was going over a business proposal from a Japanese company, as his son entered the room. Instantly, he knew that something was wrong. His son’s expression was disgusted, his eyes fiery. Malcolm had never seen his son like this before; indeed, he had been resigned to the fact that his son derived a hedonistic pleasure from his chosen lifestyle and had been pleasantly surprised when Tommy had opened up a discussion about coming to work at Merlyn Global. “Tommy, what’s going on?” Malcolm asked. “You look troubled.”

“I was just talking with Oliver,” Tommy said, his tone hardening as he spoke his best friend’s name, which intrigued Malcolm. Whenever Tommy had spoken of his best friend since Oliver’s return, it had been with a jovial tone. What could have possibly happened in one talk to create this schism between them? “Thea ran away.”

“What?” Malcolm asked, affecting a shocked look. “Where did she go? Not to the Glades, I hope.”

“No, Thea knows better than to go there,” Tommy said. “But she left the city. According to Ollie, she’s in Metropolis. He’s got Sara Lance of all people looking for her instead of going there himself. He’s so caught up in that vision for his city he talked about in his speech that he doesn’t care about Thea or what she’s going through after what happened to Mrs. Queen and Walter. He told me himself that the city has to come first, and he can’t just sit at home holding Thea’s hand! She’s just a kid who lost her mother! She needs someone to be there for her, not chasing a mad pipe dream that this city can be saved from what it’s become!”

Malcolm’s shocked expression was now genuine. Not only at the fact that Oliver had essentially abandoned his own sister in pursuit of his dream for a better future for Starling City, but also at the disgust with which Tommy spoke of Oliver wanting to save Starling City. Slowly, cautiously, Malcolm asked, “What do you mean about it being a pipe dream? Don’t you think the city is worth fighting for?”

“No,” Tommy said, shaking his head and shocking his father further. “Mom thought that the people in this city were worth helping, and they killed her for it. Laurel is driving herself to exhaustion providing legal aid to people who would walk all over her if she was bleeding out in the street, and now Ollie thinks that all the people in this city need is someone to show them that there’s a reason to hope, and he’s willing to forget about what his sister needs to do it. Well, I’m not going to leave Thea to suffer in silence. I’m leaving for Metropolis tonight. If you still want me to be a part of the company, approve my transfer to our Metropolis branch. If not, I guess it’ll have to wait until I find Thea.”

“No, no, if that’s what you think is best, I’ll approve of it,” Malcolm said absently. “You’ll be the head of Special Projects in Metropolis. Mostly administrative, so it should give you plenty of time to find Thea and be there for her when you do. If you need any help, I know a few good P.I.’s in Metropolis.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Tommy said, and then he turned and walked out of his office. Malcolm turned and looked out over the city. His eyes lighted upon the nearby office building of Queen Consolidated. So, Oliver had his own plans to bring the city back from the brink. That was interesting; not for the first time, Malcolm wondered if Oliver’s plans had anything to do with a certain Emerald Archer, or if he was just seeing connections that weren’t there. But what troubled him was Tommy’s disconnect and apathy towards the city he had been born to. How could he not want to save the place he was born? Had Malcolm gone wrong somewhere in raising his son? **_*6*_**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter.
> 
> Hmmm.... considering there's more than a few people heading for Metropolis, maybe I will divert some of the focus there. We'll see. 
> 
> Chapter Notes:
> 
> *1* It really disgusts me how much Guggenheim, Mericle, and Schwartz went out of their way to completely destroy Oliver and Laurel’s relationship and assigned some of the iconic aspects to those I feel are most unsuited to having their mantles (E-2 Adrian and E-2 Laurel). So I’m taking back the ‘pretty bird’ thing and giving it back to the real Oliver and Laurel.
> 
> *2* I know some people are probably disappointed in Tommy’s reaction, but I felt how Tommy’s thought process played out was in character for someone who’s been kept out of the loop and now finds that everything he thought he knew about his best friend is a lie. I couldn’t help the thing about Green Arrow being the person rescued and Oliver Queen being a mask as another homage to “Batman Begins”.
> 
> *3* You know, it’s funny because it ‘feels’ like Oliver and Laurel have been together for a longer time, but it’s really been barely two weeks since they got together in this story.
> 
> *4* Tommy at the beginning of Season 1 is supposed to be like pre-island Oliver, and pre-island Oliver was not a good person, as Oliver himself admitted in the 1x14 flashbacks to Slade. Tommy only changed because, like Oliver, he wanted to be worthy of Laurel. He has no such motivation to change here since Laurel is with Oliver.
> 
> *5* Dear, oh dear. Talia is suspicious about her former student’s actions. What might this lead to if she decides to investigate further and discovers Oliver now has ties to Nanda Parbat, threadbare as those ties are?
> 
> *6* Gee, Malcolm, ya think?


	32. The Arrest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So, I had to take a little break from writing, cuz I’ve been writing almost non-stop for over a month. But as I’ve told a couple of friends, I suck at taking a vacation from writing, so it’s not surprising to me that said vacation barely lasted 24 hours.
> 
> On another note, I've written up a new summary for the story that reflects the reality that this story has grown beyond a basic 'second chance' story and become a full series rewrite all it's own.

Green Arrow watched from the rafters of the abandoned warehouse as Leo Mueller’s vehicle, carrying ‘samples’ of enough firepower to start World War III on the streets of Starling City, came to a stop below. Three black SUVs, belonging to an African American gang called the Niners, were pulling up twenty feet away from where Mueller’s transport stopped. Green Arrow nocked a magnetic arrow, preparing to strike. Mueller and his bodyguard stood at the back of their car, the trunk open and displaying the ‘sample merchandise’ as the gang-bangers, six of them, got out of their SUVs and moved forward cautiously.

Mueller’s bodyguard had an automatic weapon; the gang-bangers had nine millimeters sticking out of the fronts of their jeans, glorying in the stereotype. Green Arrow amused himself, briefly and grimly, with the thought of what would happen if the triggers got pulled when the guns were ripped from where they were ‘holstered’. As the gang-bangers came to a stop, Green Arrow drew back his bow and fired. The magnetic arrow landed in the space between the two groups, and he leaped down from the rafters as the magnetic arrow activated, ripping the weapons away from the gang-bangers and bodyguard. A single shot rang out and one of the bangers went down, screaming in agony as his hands went to his rather bloody groin. Green Arrow blinked; that had just been a private joke in his own head, he hadn’t thought it would actually _happen_.

Green Arrow pushed through his surprise that his joke had become strangely prophetic in nature and leaped into the midst of the bangers, delivering crippling blows with his legs and bow, tidying up with bolo arrows. He fired a flashbang arrow to disorient the bodyguard as the man reached inside the trunk for one of the sample weapons and then hit him with a bolo arrow. Mueller had tried to run, but found he had put himself in a corner, between his car and a stack of pallets. He turned to face Green Arrow, shouting in German. Green Arrow studied the man for a moment, and then made a decision. He drew one of his basic arrows from the flechette around his arm and fired; the arrow struck Mueller in the heart, killing him instantly.

There were still people on the List who deserved death for their crimes and didn’t deserve a chance at redemption like he gave to most. Leo Mueller was one of those people. **_*1*_**

**_*DC*_ **

Alex Danvers and Darius Trimble stood on the step of the mansion where Frank Bertinelli lived with his daughter. They had had to wait for their own experts to verify the veracity of the recording the Green Arrow had hand-delivered to Trimble, but now the veracity of the recording was confirmed, and they could act on the information. Trimble rang the bell and turned to look at the younger agent. “Relax, Danvers,” Trimble said. “Mafiosos like Bertinelli pride themselves on being ‘civilized’. They’re not going to gun us down in their own home and then dissolve our bodies in the bathtub.” Alex shuddered at the imagery but clamped down on her nervousness and schooled her expression into a calm mask as the door to the manor opened to reveal a butler.

“Yes?” the butler asked.

“Agents Trimble and Danvers, F.B.I.,” Trimble said, pulling out his credentials and presenting them, Alex doing the same a moment later. The butler studied them and then stepped aside.

“I will inform Mr. Bertinelli of his most distinguished guests at once,” the butler said. “Martha will show you to the sitting room.” He gestured to a nearby maid, who stopped her dusting and gestured for the agents to follow her. Trimble and Alex followed the maid and took seats on the couch. A few minutes later, Frank Bertinelli entered the room followed by his daughter in a form-fitting purple dress and three men in suits. Two were obviously bodyguards/goombahs, while the other Alex and Trimble recognized from the file that the Organized Crime Unit had let them peruse as Nick Salvati. Ostensibly Bertinelli’s head of security, Salvati was tagged as the enforcer of the crime family. **_*2*_**

“I have to say, I was surprised when Alfredo informed me we had a couple of visitors from the F.B.I.,” Bertinelli said, portraying a somewhat jovial persona. “My understanding is you’re chasing after Green Arrow and some conspiracy surrounding the Queen family. I admit, I wanted the contracts to build the new Applied Sciences center for Queen Consolidated, but my lawyer hasn’t presented our case to Oliver Queen yet, and I’ve certainly received no visits from Green Arrow, or anyone associated with him. Which begs the question why you’re here now?”

“I’m sure you’ve heard of the recent murder of Ivan Danakov, a Russian who was looking to start a private security firm in Starling City?” Trimble asked. Alex, who was keeping an eye on Helena, noted the young woman’s hands close into fists for a moment before relaxing, no doubt confident that her father was going to get the blame, or Salvati since the man was the enforcer.

“I had heard about it, yes,” Bertinelli said blandly. “I pay attention to things like private security start-ups. Never know when a good one will crop up. The Russians are known for their seriousness, so I was keeping an eye on that one. But I don’t understand what about that brings you here.”

“An anonymous source managed to backtrack the shooter to their point of origin through traffic cameras and other surveillance,” Trimble said. “I’m afraid that the identity of the shooter is unmistakable.” He stood, turning his attention to Helena. “Helena Bertinelli, you’re under arrest for the murder of Ivan Danakov.”

“This is ridiculous,” Helena scoffed while Bertinelli and Salvati exchanged glances before their expressions became impassive. Helena turned to her father. “You don’t believe them, do you, Daddy?”

“Of course not, sweetheart,” Bertinelli said. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to insist you leave, agents. I will not have a member of my family harassed.”

“I’m afraid we won’t be leaving here without your daughter, Mr. Bertinelli,” Trimble said as Alex circled the coffee table, pulling Helena’s hands behind her and cuffing her. Trimble handed the necessary paperwork to Bertinelli. “As you can see, we have a warrant for her arrest.”

“Don’t touch me, you sycophant!” Helena snapped at Alex, who ignored her as she tightened the cuffs.

“I’ll have my daughter back here within the hour,” Bertinelli sneered. “Nick, call Gus. I assume you’re still operating out of the 16th Precinct?” he added, looking at Trimble, who nodded. “Then we’ll meet you there and get this matter settled.” He turned to his daughter. “Go with them for now, sweetheart, but don’t say a word. We’ll have you out of there in no time.” Helena nodded and allowed Alex to lead her out of the manor, Trimble trailing behind them. Bertinelli watched them go, scowling, and not just because the F.B.I. had marched in here without so much as a warning from their contacts in the S.C.P.D. If they _did_ have proof, it mean his daughter had been up to something that he needed to figure out.

**_*DC*_ **

Malcolm Merlyn studied the information one of his agents had sent him. Because of the rather nasty surprise that had come about because of the discovery of the _Queen’s Gambit_ , Malcolm had decided he wanted to know about every little ‘secret’ Moira Queen had had. It turned out that her life was far more colorful than she had made it seem when she introduced herself to him and Robert all those years ago. She had purported that she was at Stanford with them on scholarship, but in fact the money had been stolen from the criminal kingpin of Metropolis, Morgan Edge; no doubt Edge would be interested to know what became of Moira Dearden, as rumor had it that Moira had left him something to remember her by, not to mention that her daughter was now in his sphere of influence. He had learned more about the second family Robert had had that Oliver had gone to visit, Kazumi and Emiko Adachi, but he now knew he needed to shy away from anything regarding them. He wondered if his godson realized his half-sister was a high-ranking member of the Ninth Circle, the organization that the Triad had purchased the bomb from to bring down the _Queen’s Gambit_.

There was _something_ about the circumstances of Thea’s birth that made Malcolm suspicious, and he had tasked his agents tracking Thea, now centered in Metropolis thanks to Tommy letting him know where the wayward heiress had fled, to find a hair or something else that could be used to test DNA. For too long, Malcolm had taken Moira’s word for granted, but it was obvious now that the woman had been far more diabolical than she had presented to the world. He needed to know if she had lied to him all of these years; if so, well, if Oliver wasn’t up to taking care of his sister for the few months until she was eighteen, Malcolm could certainly try his hand at it, and try and make up for lost time. It was too late to fix things with his son.

Speaking of sons, Malcolm mused with a cruel smirk, his agents had uncovered the most interesting tidbit from Moira’s past beyond her origins. She had paid out two million dollars to a young woman named Samantha Clayton, a woman who had been a sorority sister to Laurel Lance and had left Starling City two years before the sinking of the _Queen’s Gambit_. A woman who had a seven-year-old son who looked remarkably like a young Oliver Queen had when he was that age. Moira had always protected her family’s perfect image, and illegitimate children such as Emiko Adachi and this William Clayton were the top of the no-no list for such an image. Malcolm now had the ultimate leverage against Oliver should he need it, and as a result, he was in a rather exultant mood when the front desk phoned to inform him that he had a visitor: Lieutenant Franklin Pike of the Major Case Unit. “Send him up,” Malcolm said, feeling that there was nothing that could destroy the good mood he was in over things coming together in a way that benefited him most of all. **_*3*_**

A few minutes later, Pike entered his office. “Lieutenant, welcome,” Malcolm said, giving the man his best corporate businessman smile as he circled around the desk and shook the lieutenant’s hand. “What brings you by?”

“Green Arrow,” Pike said, and Malcolm felt a brief thrill of fear. Had the vigilante delivered evidence to the police that implicated him or revealed a part of his scheme to save the city from itself? “A few nights ago, he gave us another anonymous tip, leading a warehouse where he had subdued Daniel Brickwell and his men. We’ve spent the past few days processing all of the evidence. Mr. Merlyn, among the items we processed was a pistol with a pearl-grip handle that Brickwell claims has been his personal weapon for twenty years. He’s very proud of the fact that everyone he’s killed, he’s done so with that weapon.”

“I’m afraid I’m confused, Lieutenant,” Malcolm said, and he truly was. What did some criminal’s signature weapon have to do with him?

“We ran ballistics to find out just how many murders Brickwell has to his name,” Pike said. “We got confirmation last night. The weapon Brickwell claims is his personal weapon for the past twenty years is, without a shred of doubt, the gun that killed your wife. We got him, Mr. Merlyn.”

“You… You got the man who murdered Rebecca?” Malcolm said, his mouth dry. This couldn’t be happening. _He_ had killed the bastard who had ripped his heart out! _He_ had gotten justice for his wife! There had to be some mistake. “You’re sure he didn’t just get the weapon from someone else and is rounding up how long he’s owned it?” Rebecca had been murdered nineteen years ago. If Brickwell was to be believed, that he had owned the weapon for twenty, then there could be no doubt.

“We’re sure,” Pike said. “We tracked down the gun shop where Brickwell purchased the weapon. The owner still had the records. I know that you’ve waited a long time to hear this news, Mr. Merlyn.”

“Can I see him?” Malcolm asked abruptly. Pike blinked. “I need to hear it from him for myself, lieutenant. I need to look in his eyes, I need to ask him why he did it.”

“Mr. Merlyn, I…” Pike said, trailing off as he saw the desperate look in Malcolm’s eyes. “I’ll see what I can do,” Pike said finally.

“Thank you, lieutenant,” Malcolm said. “Please let me know the instant that I can confront this man.” Pike nodded and left the office. No doubt he would have to run it up the chain of command, and Malcolm knew that Nudocerdo would bend over backwards to let him confront Brickwell. Why did that name sound familiar? Malcolm went around his desk and pulled open a drawer that contained his copy of the List. He searched through it and found the name _Daniel Brickwell_ on it. He fell into his seat, feeling as though his blood was cooling in his veins. His wife’s murderer had been walking around for twenty years, and for almost eighteen of those years, he had been _protecting_ the man. Malcolm felt ill, thinking of what Tommy would think if he ever learned the truth. Tommy. He didn’t know. He didn’t know that they had got his mother’s killer. Malcolm was tempted to call his son but stayed his hand. First, he would confirm for himself that Brickwell had murdered Rebecca. Then he would let Tommy know.

And then Al Sa-Her would finally have his revenge on the man who had given birth to him.

**_*DC*_ **

Oliver Queen grimaced as he answered the phone as he got ready for his day at Queen Consolidated. “Hello, Amanda,” he said.

“I thought we had an agreement,” Waller said coolly. “We aided you in capturing and interrogating Frank Chen, and you were supposed to give me Leo Mueller.”

“Leo Mueller makes his fortune by selling military-grade weapons to street gangs and turning the streets of American cities into warzones,” Oliver replied. “He is responsible for the deaths of hundreds of innocent lives and the ruination of some of our most iconic cities. He received his just reward. There are other gun-runners that you can twist to A.R.G.U.S. assets, Amanda. But if any of them show up in Starling, they’ll receive the same justice as Mueller. I will not see my city become a warzone just so you can obtain black market weapons.”

“You are treading a dangerous line, Mr. Queen,” Waller informed him, and then hung up. Oliver snorted at that and began tying his tie. He had to put in a few hours at Queen Consolidated, still.

He sighed when his phone rang again and picked it up. Seeing it was Henry Fyff, Oliver answered. “What is it, Henry?”

“Oh, shit, boss, you gotta get here, like _now_ ,” Fyff said.

“What is it? Did Waller send her goon squad to take everything or something for what I did to Mueller?” Oliver asked.

“What? No, no, haven’t seen any A.R.G.U.S. agents,” Fyff replied. “You told me to keep an eye on things with Merlyn and Helena. Things went down this morning, boss, and there’s activity all across the city. The Italians and Russians are mobilizing, Merlyn’s calling in favors with Nudocerdo and has taken the day off from work, and it’s all one big clusterfuck, boss.”

Oliver felt his stomach clench. “What exactly are the Russians and Italians up to? And how is it connected to Helena?” Oliver asked, since the Merlyn aspect of this was obvious. The man had just found out that his wife’s murderer was in custody and he was unhinged because of it, acting on impulse, which was precisely what Oliver had been hoping for. It’d be an easy way to draw the Dark Archer into a confrontation without having to wait until Christmas and leave him to continue his machinations. But he hadn’t thought the F.B.I. would choose the same day to go after Helena, because he had known that would stir up the Russians and Italians.

“The Feds picked up Helena this morning, and they’ve made no mystery as to why,” Fyff said. “Obviously, the Russians and Italians are hearing from their people inside the S.C.P.D. and while the Russians are mobilizing to go after the woman who killed one of theirs, the Italians are mobilizing in preparation for a street war with the Russians.”

“Damn it, damn it, _damn it!_ ” Oliver snarled. “I’m heading to the Bratva, see if I can’t calm them down. Get things ready at the Bunker in case things go south.”

“Um, what do you mean by that, boss?” Fyff asked guardedly.

“If the Russians move against Helena, we might have to keep her safe at the Bunker until she can be safely transported,” Oliver said. He _really_ didn’t want to expose the base of his operations to Helena Bertinelli or the two agents most likely to be guarding her, Trimble and Danvers, but there might be no choice. It would be the only place in the city that was safe. “I want the entire place sanitized, make sure there’s no sign of any personal effects, Henry. Not yours, not mine, not Laurel’s. We need to make it look sterile, like it can be moved at a moment’s notice.”

“I understand,” Fyff said soberly. Oliver hung up and grabbed his jacket, ignoring his haphazard tie. Appearance wasn’t important right now; time was of the essence. He needed to stop Alexi and the rest of the Bratva before this turned into a war zone and (he closed his eyes) he needed to arrange a meeting between himself as the head of the Starling City chapter with Frank Bertinelli. They needed to stop this from becoming a bloodbath, one way or another. If not… then his relationship with the Russians was at an end, because he would not stand by and watch as the city was torn apart by a mob war. _Ironic that Helena’s arrest might trigger the very thing I was trying to avoid when I killed Mueller,_ he thought bitterly. **_*4*_**

**_*DC*_ **

Sara Lance rolled her eyes as she knocked on the door of the hotel room at the Metropolis Empire Hotel that Thea Queen had bribed the desk clerk to give her despite her being underage. Thea, like any spoiled girl, hadn’t even _tried_ to hide her trail. Like most teenagers, she was convinced of her own invincibility and that not only would no one track her down, but that she wouldn’t be investigated if she went to a high-class hotel and rented a room while underage. All Sara had had to do was threaten the clerk who Thea bribed with a call to the M.P.D. and they were suddenly very attentive and helpful, even giving Sara a copy of the keycard to Thea’s room, but Sara would give the girl a chance to come quietly.

The door swung open, and Thea’s hazel eyes bugged out at the sight of Sara standing outside. She moved to shut the door, but Sara caught it with her hand and pushed her way inside, grabbing Thea by the upper arm and dragging the seventeen-year-old to her bed, which Sara threw her down on. “You, little miss, are a pain in the ass and a brat,” Sara said by way of morning greeting. “Do you have any idea how worried your brother is? He was going out of his mind with worry when he realized you were gone, and he about lost it when he realized that you were heading to Metropolis to visit Suicide Slums to try and find your mother’s family.” Which was true; Oliver internalized a lot of his reactions from what Sara could tell, and the numb voice he had spoken in was belied by the wild panic she had seen in his eyes.

“Like he actually cares,” Thea scoffed. “He’s too busy playing Robin Hood to care about me. If he really did, he would be here himself. He wouldn’t have sent his little sidepiece.”

Sara’s eyes narrowed and she resisted the urge to backhand Thea for the mouth she was giving her. She remembered very well that she had been an antagonistic little bitch herself when she was Thea’s age, and Laurel had had to bail her out of trouble more than once. “Your brother has responsibilities he can’t walk away from, something that an arrogant little bitch like you has no understanding of,” Sara snapped back, unable to completely curb her anger at Thea’s belligerent attitude. “All of Starling is under threat if Oliver doesn’t stop what’s happening. Millions of lives are in the balance, but all that has to be put on hold because Thea Queen’s feelings are hurt! Heaven forbid you actually accept that your brother has grown up and that it’s about time you did, too!”

Before either of them could say another word, there was another knock at the door. Sara shot Thea a menacing glare that even the belligerent teenager understood meant ‘stay put’ and went to the door. She blinked in surprise, just as the man on the other side of the door did. After a moment, Sara relaxed. “Hey, Tommy,” she said. “Come to help me talk some sense into the Little Miss?”

“Not in the way you think, no,” Tommy said, pushing his way into the room and zeroing in on Thea. He moved to the bed and sat beside the girl, putting an arm around her shoulders. Thea leaned into his embrace, closing her eyes. “I came because Thea needs someone in her corner, someone who’ll put her first.”

“You came here for me?” Thea asked plaintively, looking at Tommy through watery eyes.

“You’re like my little sister, Speedy,” Tommy said, not knowing he was crushing the girl’s heart with those words. “And right now, you need a brother who’s going to put you first. I’m taking over as Head of Special Projects for Merlyn Global here in Metropolis. You can stay with me for as long as you need to, whether or not you decide to go back to Starling. I wouldn’t blame you if you chose to stay here.”

“Tommy, you’re talking about things you don’t understand,” Sara said.

Tommy huffed a scornful laugh. “Do you mean about you being alive but hardly anyone knowing? Or maybe about Ollie’s little hobby of firing arrows at people?” Sara flinched back in shock. “Yeah, I know about Oliver,” Tommy said. “And I know that he put his crazy plans over his own flesh-and-blood. I still remember when he and I swore to protect Thea with our very lives. He might’ve forgotten that in his arrogant belief that he can save Starling City all by his lonesome, but I haven’t. I made all the arrangements I needed to with my Dad in less than a day, but Ollie can’t spend thirty minutes with Thea everyday to make sure she knows she’s loved? That’s bullshit, Sara, and you and I both know it.”

Sara grimaced but shook her head. “You still don’t have the full story, Tommy,” she said. “If you did, you’d know that what Oliver’s doing is probably the most important thing any of us will ever do with our lives. Starling City is in danger. Ollie is trying to save millions of lives.”

“Oh, right, the mythical ‘Tempest’ that the F.B.I. are investigating based on an LLC sharing the same name as a group Ollie mentioned in his little speech to the city,” Tommy scoffed. “Oliver is fighting a losing war, and he’s dragging Laurel into it. I won’t stay in Starling and watch my best friends die for people who wouldn’t help them if they were bleeding out in the street, and Thea doesn’t need to go back to a city where she’s ignored and forgotten while Oliver makes his grand gestures as C.E.O. and Green Arrow. You can go back to Starling and tell Oliver that Thea will be fine, Sara. She has family with her, even if its not by blood. Now get the hell outta here.” **_*5*_**

Sara knew that there wasn’t much point to continuing the argument. But she also knew Oliver would kill her if she left his sister undefended in Metropolis. So she vowed to keep watch over Thea until such a time as Oliver called her away. She turned and left the hotel room, already planning to get a room for herself until she could find an apartment in the city.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter.
> 
> Chapter Notes:
> 
> *1* I debated as to what Oliver should do regarding Mueller. But I realized if he was going to take preventative measures with Holder and him pulling the same shit as before, he would make a similar choice with the likes of Mueller.
> 
> *2* According to Wikipedia, the term ‘goombah’ varies on it’s meaning depending on who is using it. For Italian-Americans, it is slang for associate, especially those who act as a patron, accomplice, protector, or adviser. When used by non-Italians, as is the case with Trimble & Alex in this segment, it implies the stereotype of Italian-American males as thugs and/or mafiosos.
> 
> *3* Malcolm had good reason to go digging into Moira’s past and I felt it would be unlike him not to do so. Oh, and for those wondering about the reference re: Moira and Morgan Edge, yes, it’s a callback to Episode 3 of “Fires of Purgatory”, where Moira played a game of Sizzle Balls.
> 
> *4* As you know, Oliver, Fate is a psychotic bitch with a penchant for poetic ironies.
> 
> *5* (winces) Yeah, this whole scene was painful to write with all three of the characters ripping into each other. Reminded me way too much of when my brother and his wife would use my parents’ house as a neutral ground for their blow-up arguments.


	33. Negotiations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So, I know it’s been a few days. I decided to hold off in part since there was going to be problems with emails, but mainly I wanted to make sure that this arc worked out the way I hoped before I started posting chapters for it. Last thing I wanted was another situation where I wrote myself into a corner and couldn’t get out of it. This arc, which began with the last chapter, goes through to Chapter 38, and there will be one or two updates per day.

Oliver Queen pulled his bike up in front of the autobody shop that served as a business front for the Starling chapter of the Bratva. Dismounting quickly, he left his helmet at a haphazard angle on the handlebars as he rushed into the autobody shop and headed down into the basement level, where Alexi was directing men to arm up. “I’m countermanding those orders!” Oliver shouted into the din, and the Bratva silenced as they turned to face the Captain that had been personally assigned charge of their chapter by the Pakhan. They could not directly ignore him, despite Leonov’s grumblings. “Alexi, what the hell do you think you’re doing? I told you to leave it to the authorities,” Oliver snarled as he marched up to the one-handed spider.

“This is way we have always handled things, _Captain_ ,” Alexi sneered the title. “You and Pakhan may think to change Bratva. You can slap new paint on walls, can make us look respectable, but this is who we are. The Bertinelli bitch must die for killing a brother. This is _Bratva_ way, Mr. Queen. And even if it were not, Bertinelli is already marshaling his forces. We must be ready for attack.”

“Reach out to Bertinelli, arrange a meeting,” Oliver said calmly. “I’ll meet with Bertinelli myself and see if we can’t avoid a mob war. Because that’s what this comes to, Alexi, and I’m warning you now, if it does, I will be taking aim at Bratva and Bertinelli alike.” Oliver met Alexi’s defiant gaze with cold blue eyes. Alexi finally nodded. “Now, I’m going to stay right here to make sure you don’t try anything behind my back,” Oliver said. “Because you’ve proven you’re a weasel, Leonov, and this time, if you act contrary to my orders, it won’t be your _hand_ that you lose.”

“I… understand, Captain,” Alexi said slowly. He barked an order in Russian for everyone to stand down. They did, rather reluctantly in Oliver’s opinion, and he kept himself vigilant while Alexi made the phone call to start getting the ball rolling. This was going to be a long day, and he was going to have to come up with some reason to explain his sudden absence from Queen Consolidated to Ned Foster. Maybe a sudden anxiety attack?

Oliver waited for almost an hour before Alexi approached him. “Mr. Bertinelli will meet us at Russo’s in one hour,” Alexi reported sourly. “I must insist on protection detail. You are Captain. You are _target_ for Italians if they wish pre-emptive strike.”

“I understand, Alexi,” Oliver said, inclining his head. “Choose your men carefully. If we need to fight our way out, it should be with the best possible configuration.” Alexi inclined his head in return and went around the room, choosing men for the detail. They then changed into suits that were kept here in the underbelly of the garage and moved to an SUV with Oliver between them. Oliver was tense the entire time, simply because he had half a mind that they would knock him out and Alexi would take his place. But then reason broke through; Leonov would not wish to stick his neck out and take his place at this meeting. The one-handed spider had a self-preservation instinct that rivaled Merlyn’s, in Oliver’s opinion.

**_*DC*_ **

The drive to Russo’s was done in silence, aside from Alexi briefly informing Oliver of what terms the Bratva would accept, which put Oliver in an awkward position from the start because there was no way Bertinelli was going to go for those terms.

Oliver was thinking of the last time he had been at Russo’s. It had been when he and Helena had stopped Nick Salvati from shaking down the owner. He never had found out what happened to the man and his daughter last time around, as focused as he had been on his mission. He would need to keep an eye on them this time, at least for a little while, make sure nothing happened to them. He was fighting for people like them, after all; the people typically caught in the crossfire.

Soon enough, the SUV pulled up to Russo’s, and Oliver’s security detail got out ahead of him, sweeping the area for any sign of spies or assassins. Once they were satisfied, Oliver was allowed out of the SUV. He stepped into the sunlight and fell in between the four men, Alexi leading the way into Russo’s. It was, as Oliver had suspected, empty of patrons. Frank Bertinelli was waiting with Nick Salvati and a security detail of his own, seated at a table. The Bratva fell back respectfully as Oliver stepped forward and took the seat across from Bertinelli.

Bertinelli’s eyebrows popped up before saying, “I’m afraid there must be some mistake. I’m here to meet a business associate, Mr. Queen, and while I would love to talk business with you sometime, I’m afraid I’m on a tight clock.”

“You’re here to meet the head of the Bratva in Starling City,” Oliver said. “You’re looking at him. I was appointed by the Pakhan himself to bring this chapter in line with his vision for what the Bratva could be, which is very different from the Bratva you’re used to.”

“I suppose that explains why there was even an offer to sort these troubles out through talks rather than through the Bratva’s preferred strong-arming,” Bertinelli said after a moment. “Though the fact that an American is now accepted as the leader of a Bratva chapter is intriguing. You called this meeting, Mr. Queen. What do you propose we do about this situation?”

“Your daughter has killed one of my men, and she killed him while he was beginning work to bring the Bratva into a legitimate enterprise,” Oliver said. “There is no disputing this fact, Mr. Bertinelli. Now, I am trying to control my people, keep them from doing anything rash regarding Helena. We both know what they would do to a woman who dared to kill one of them.”

“I suppose you have a point,” Bertinelli said with a grimace. He had already heard from Gus Sabatoni that the evidence was iron-clad. They would be lucky to get Helena off on bail and restricted to the manor via tracking bracelet. He hadn’t been able to arrange a private audience with his daughter yet to find out what the _hell_ she had been thinking, killing a member of the Bratva like that and triggering a potential mob war, even if this lot were mostly uneducated brutes. “I do thank you for holding your people back. I will say that should anything happen to my daughter, any complacency will have vanish.”

“I understand,” Oliver said. “Now please understand my position. I cannot let this slide with no response. Your daughter killed one of my men. Something has to be done about that. The old response, of course, would be Helena being taken from police custody, gang-raped, and then her head cut off and sent to you as a warning not to cross the Bratva. I have no intentions of doing that. So that means that you and I need to come to terms that we both agree to.”

“I agree,” Bertinelli said. “I am open to a peaceful resolution, Oliver, if it can be reached.”

“Then let us begin,” Oliver said. “I’m afraid one thing I must insist on is that Helena is punished for killing one of mine. Whether that is by the courts or by you, I don’t really care. You can decide on that front.”

“I see,” Bertinelli said. “What else do you have in mind?”

“It’s my understanding that you currently own, through a subsidiary, a rather well-off porn studio,” Oliver said. “Since we cannot enter the private security business, as no one will hire those who cannot defend themselves, I feel compensation for that should take the form of ownership in a legitimate enterprise.”

“So far, I’m only hearing what you want from this exchange,” Bertinelli said. “Something I want, _if_ I were to accept your terms, is the contracts to build the new Applied Sciences center for my construction company.”

“I can certainly see my way to having that happen,” Oliver said agreeably.

“Now, should _I_ be the one to punish Helena, exactly how do you see that playing out?” Bertinelli asked.

“I’m trusting your judgment on that front,” Oliver said. “I know you wouldn’t want to renege on a deal where we both have something to gain. But it must be a punishment that will ensure she never again attempts to kill one of my men.”

“You do realize such a punishment would see my daughter permanently disfigured, don’t you?” Bertinelli asked. Queen couldn’t be unaware of this if he was involved with the brutes from the Bratva.

Oliver gave him a flat expression in return. “It’s disfigured but alive or raped, mutilated, and murdered,” Oliver said. “I know how this business works, Frank. Have you forgotten?”

“No, I haven’t,” Bertinelli said. “Just as I haven’t forgotten that Helena is my only daughter, my little princess. I’m sorry, Oliver, but I’m afraid we’ve reached an impasse unless you’re willing to reconsider Helena being punished.”

“I’m afraid I’m unable to acquiesce to your request,” Oliver said, feeling as if a stone had dropped into his stomach.

“Unfortunate,” Bertinelli said. “We will, of course, give you time to prepare. We’re civilized, after all.” Bertinelli stood, and exited, with his security detail following. Oliver sighed, closing his eyes.

“So, what now, _Captain?_ ” Alexi asked with a sneer. **_*1*_**

**_*DC*_ **

The journey back to the autobody shop was as silent as the journey to Russo’s had been. Oliver knew Alexi was planning his arguments for why the Bratva should strike pre-emptively, why they should arrange for Helena’s ‘release’ into their custody, and probably why Oliver was not the man to lead the Bratva in this endeavor because he didn’t have the stomach for this kind of conflict. Oliver, meanwhile, was trying to figure out how he was going to break away from the Bratva and get to the Bunker without them knocking him out and tying him up for the duration of this conflict with the Bertinellis.

“We must move first,” Alexi finally said as they exited the SUV inside the lower level of the autobody shop, which was suspiciously empty. “They will not show mercy. We must show none. You know this.”

“I know that if a war between the Bratva and Bertinellis happens, innocents are going to be caught in the crossfire,” Oliver said, facing Alexi. “I refuse to allow that to happen. If you must defend yourselves, do so. But if you move against the Bertinellis, if you seek out Helena to kill her, you will find me standing in your way, Leonov.”

“Let us see what Pakhan has to say,” Leonov sneered and pulled out his cell phone. He selected the contact that represented the bar that Anatoli used as his base of operations.

“Da,” said a voice on the other end.

“ _It is Alexi,_ ” Leonov said in Russian. “ _Wake the Pakhan. There is trouble in Starling, and the Captain is suffering from a weak stomach._ ” Oliver felt dread curdle in his stomach. Anatoli couldn’t afford to look weak in front of the Bratva while they were still transitioning towards legitimate enterprises. Oliver began to take stock of his position and how many men he would have to fight. If he didn’t have twelve years of experience, if one went by when he arrived on Lian Yu in the original timeline, he might be concerned. But he had faced dozens of men like the Bratva over the years and fought far worse enemies than a bunch of gangsters.

Finally, Anatoli came on the line. “What is happening?” he asked briskly, sounding rather awake for a man who must have been sleeping.

“It is simple, Pakhan,” Alexi said gloatingly. “The daughter of Bertinelli has killed one of our men. The Captain’s negotiations with Bertinelli failed. We are now at risk. The Captain wishes us to only defend. He has weak stomach.”

“Oliver?” Anatoli asked.

“I won’t allow innocents to be caught in the crossfire of a mob war, Anatoli,” Oliver said. “I know what you risked, to stand by me when you were here in Starling, and I’m sorry that I could not return the faith that you had in me. But I have to do what is best for my city.”

“You understand you face excommunication from Bratva, likely death at hands of brothers?” Anatoli asked carefully.

“I understand that I may have to fight my way out of here,” Oliver said. “If you don’t want the Bratva’s position weakened before the mob war begins, then I suggest you order Leonov and your other men to stand down and let me walk out of here. They can’t stop me, Anatoli.”

“I am sorry, Oliver, but I cannot do as you suggest,” Anatoli said. “Leonov, contain the Captain until I arrive with reinforcements. I shall see to this matter personally. Do what you must to cripple Bertinelli until reinforcements arrive.”

“It will be done as you ask, Pakhan,” Leonov said smugly and hung up the phone. “Now we break you,” Leonov told Oliver, eyes glinting in anticipation.

“No,” Oliver replied. “Now _I_ break _you._ ” He wasted no further time, turning and delivering a knife-hand strike to the nearest Russian’s throat. The man backed away, choking, and Oliver seized the wrench laying on a nearby worktable, turning and striking Leonov across the face with the wrench. The one-handed Russian fell to the ground, dazed and bloody. Oliver moved towards the stairs leading up to the main floor, Russians stepping into his way and arming themselves with chains, lead pipes, and pulling brass knuckles from out of pockets. There were six men who stood between him and the safety of the city. “You shouldn’t have sent any men away,” Oliver said quietly. “You would have needed them to stop me.” Oliver moved forward, ducking under the swing of a lead pipe by the first man, coming up and smashing the wrench he was wielding like a blade into the man’s chin, sending him stumbling back with a broken jaw.

Oliver stepped over the man, snatching up his lead pipe as he did so and then moved forward, becoming a whirlwind of pain and misery as far as the remaining five Russians were concerned. At the end of it, Oliver was standing at the bottom of the stairs, tossing the bloody wrench and pipe to the ground as he stared, with some regret, at the moaning, broken Russians. “ _I did warn you,_ ” he said in Russian, and then went up the stairs, buttoning his jacket as he did so to hide the blood staining his white dress shirt. Arriving back at his bike, Oliver swung one leg over it, pulled his helmet on, and then started the bike, pulling away from the curb and heading deeper into the Glades, towards the Bunker. There was no stopping the mob war that was coming; it was too late for that now. But he _could_ minimize the casualties. He _had_ to. How, though? He couldn’t announce to the city that a mob war was about to occur. All that would do was cause mass panic and probably contribute to the casualty rate as a result.

_What could he do? ***2***_

**_*DC*_ **

Oliver stopped his bike in front of the office that served as a front for the Bunker. He dismounted, hanging his helmet from the right handlebar and entered the office space, accessing the hidden elevator, and stepping inside, unbuttoning his suit jacket and letting the lapels move back to reveal the red bloodstains on his shirt. Oliver leaned back against the elevator wall, closing his eyes and preparing himself. For the next few days, perhaps even the next week or more, his time was going to be spent intervening and stopping the Bratva and Bertinelli crime families from killing too many innocents. He also knew that for the first time since he arrived in this time, he would have to act in the light of day. The attacks could come at any hour, any time of day, and he would need to be ready for them.

But there was also something else that needed to be done. Right now, the Starling City Police Department was shackled by their deal with organized crime. They couldn’t protect the people the way they needed to. Only one man in the city could rescind that deal, and that meant that Oliver, as Green Arrow, would need to speak to Malcolm Merlyn. He felt disgusted at the very thought, but the F.B.I. alone couldn’t handle this problem. The S.C.P.D. needed the freedom to act, and without Tempest rescinding the agreement between the police department and the crime families, they wouldn’t have that. Oliver opened his eyes as the elevator door opened and entered the Bunker. Henry Fyff was inside, and his eyes widened at the sight of the blood on his boss’s shirt. “What happened?” Fyff asked.

“The end of a relationship,” Oliver said grimly. “The Bratva are preparing for war, and so are the Bertinellis. I couldn’t stop it from coming to this thanks to Alexi Leonov’s hardline requirement that Helena be punished for her crime. We need to be ready, Henry. Monitor everything, because once this kicks off, the other crime families and gangs are going to leap into the fray, try and snatch up some territory while the Bratva and Bertinellis brutalize one another.” Oliver picked up one of the encrypted phones that he kept at the bunker and reached into his suit pocket, pulling out a crumpled card with Darius Trimble’s contact information on it. “I need to warn our federal friends and the S.C.P.D., and then I have to go see Malcolm Merlyn.”

“Why?” Fyff asked. “And do you mean as you or as Green Arrow?”

“If I go to him as Oliver Queen, he’ll want to know about how I got my information and if he learns about my time in Russia, he won’t stop digging until he finds out everything,” Oliver said. “There’s no choice but to go to him as Green Arrow and _hope_ I can reason with him. And the reason I have to do this, Henry, is because Malcolm has to be the one who brokered the deal between the police department and the mob. He’s the only one who can unshackle the S.C.P.D.”

“You’re _sure_ he’s the one responsible?” Fyff asked. “What if there’s another player in this that we don’t know about? Someone else who benefits from the lack of action between the mob and the police?”

“Who else could it be?” Oliver returned, typing the number for Trimble’s cell into the encrypted phone, which came with a modulator program to keep his voice from being recognized. He put the phone on speaker so Fyff could hear.

“Darius Trimble, F.B.I.,” said the agent’s voice.

“Agent Trimble, this is the Green Arrow,” Oliver said, trusting in his equipment to modulate his voice on the other end of the line. “There’s been a complication resulting from your arrest of Helena Bertinelli.”

“The Russians and Italians arming up and mobilizing? Yes, we’re aware of that,” the agent replied.

“What you don’t know is that the Bratva are going to get reinforcements from Russia, and that Anatoli Knyasev, the Pakhan of the Bratva, is going to oversee this personally,” Oliver replied. “This is going to escalate, and quickly, because once he realizes Knyasev is here, Bertinelli will call for reinforcements of his own, and before you know it, the city will be a warzone.”

“I see,” Trimble said after a moment. “We’ll take precautions, I assure you.”

“In the meantime, I’ll be seeing if I can’t unshackle the S.C.P.D. for the duration of this mob war,” Oliver said. “Good luck, Agent Trimble.”

“And to you,” the agent replied and then hung up. Oliver returned the phone to its charger.

“Um, boss?” Fyff said hesitantly. “I think something’s happening. There’s a lot of communication between the Bratva about Russo’s.”

“It’s a favored eatery of the Bertinellis and their soldiers,” Oliver said. He looked at the time. It was four p.m. “They’ll hit it by six,” he predicted. “They’ll want to maximize casualties. Anything coming from the Bertinellis?”

“No, but they could be deploying countermeasures to keep the Bratva from learning their plans,” Fyff replied. Oliver nodded, moving to stand in front of his suit. He remembered the confrontation with Tommy at the loft, how Tommy had said that one day, one of these thugs was going to get in a lucky shot. He smiled bitterly. If ever there was a time that that was going to happen, it was during a mob war, especially since he was using _this_ suit; it wasn’t nearly as well-protected as his later suits had been. He really missed Cisco’s genius in this regard, even if the degreeless genius’s excitable attitude got on his nerves at times. He supposed he could work on upgrading the suit himself; he had put together Helena’s suit in the previous timeline, after all. It was simply an inopportune time to do so.

“So, I’m guessing you’ll be heading to Russo’s?” Fyff asked from behind him. Oliver turned to face his tech expert and nodded. “I’ll make sure you have as much help as possible from my end,” Fyff said, and headed back to the computers. Oliver turned to face his uniform again. _Standing against the unknown with my grit and bow, indeed,_ he thought to himself. But first, he needed to know those who he cared about were safe. Tommy, Sara, and Thea were in Metropolis, and he would call to make sure they were going to stay there. But Laurel was here in Starling City, and what’s more, she worked in the Glades, and that was sure to be a hotbed of conflict once this got started. Not to mention that once Anatoli arrived, the Bratva may target her to get to Oliver.

Oliver dug his own phone out of his pocket and, after a moment of indecision, selected Tommy’s name. It rang four times before he finally picked up. “What do you want, Oliver?” Tommy asked.

“I don’t want to fight, Tommy,” Oliver said wearily. “Is Thea with you? Or Sara?”

“She’s with me,” Tommy said. “I don’t know where Sara is, and I don’t much care since she was so busy defending your crazy ideas. Why do you want to know where Thea is?”

“I just wanted to know she was safe,” Oliver said. “Tell me you’re going to stay there with her.”

“I am,” Tommy confirmed, his voice colored by confusion now. “What’s going on, Ollie?”

“Tommy, I need you to promise me that whatever you see on the news, whatever you hear, that you will keep Thea in Metropolis, that neither of you will come back to Starling,” Oliver said.

“Ollie… _what is going on_?” Tommy asked.

“A lot,” Oliver said. “I’ll be sending Laurel to Metropolis soon. She’ll represent you so you can take guardianship of Thea. You were right that Thea deserves someone who is unreservedly in her corner, and I can’t be that. Tell her that I’m sorry, and that I love her, but that I can’t be who she needs me to be. Please.”

“I will, Oliver,” Tommy said, keeping his tone serious. “But just tell me. What is going on? How bad is it?”

“Goodbye, Tommy,” Oliver said and hung up. Next, he dialed Sara, who picked up after one ring.

“Ollie, I found Thea, but Tommy showed up and now she’s staying with him. I’m staying in Metropolis to keep an eye on her, figured you’d want to know she was safe no matter what,” Sara said as soon as she picked up.

“Sara, don’t worry about Thea, I’m sending Laurel to Metropolis to represent Tommy so that he can take guardianship of Thea,” Oliver said. “It’s for the best. I just wanted to let you know that you don’t need to come back to Starling just because the job’s done. Use that expense account to travel the world if you like. I can afford it.”

“Ollie, that’s really generous, but I know when you’re lying,” Sara said. “Your voice hitches just a little. What’s going on?”

“Something big, something that I have to devote all my energy to, and I can’t be worried about those I care about being caught in the crossfire,” Oliver replied. “I’ll see if Laurel can’t talk your Dad into coming to Metropolis with her.”

“ _Ollie,_ ” Sara stressed, making it clear she wasn’t going to be put off the way Tommy had been. Oliver had a very nasty, very uncomplimentary thought about the Lance family and their stubborn streak while also feeling a sudden dread that he might not be able to convince Laurel to go to Metropolis. “What is going on? Don’t try to lie to me.”

“It’s nothing I’m not used to, just a little more than usual,” Oliver lied easily.

“Oliver…” Sara whispered.

“Just promise me that you’ll keep Thea, Tommy and Laurel safe if something happens,” Oliver said. “Not that I expect something to, but it pays to be cautious. Promise me, Sara.”

“I promise,” Sara said. “Ollie, I-”

“Goodbye, Sara,” Oliver said and hung up. Finally, he called Laurel.

“Hey, Ollie,” Laurel said as she picked up after the second ring. “I was thinking we could go out for dinner tonight. There’s a nice Italian place called Russo’s. Ever heard of it?”

“I was there this afternoon,” Oliver said. “But Russo’s is going to be very _busy_ tonight. It would be better to wait until after you get back.”

“Back?” Laurel asked quizzically.

“I’ve decided to let Tommy have guardianship of Thea,” Oliver replied. “I was hoping you would go to Metropolis and handle representing him, make it official. I want someone I trust to do it, especially making sure Malcolm can’t do anything to reverse it. Maybe you could take your Dad, since Sara’s there, too.”

“I suppose I could,” Laurel said dubiously. “But what’s going on, Ollie?”

“Nothing too serious, I just want this done A.S.A.P.,” Oliver replied. “I’ll even throw in private fare to Metropolis on the Q.C. jet if you can leave tonight.”

“I can, but I dunno if I can talk my Dad into that so quickly,” Laurel said.

“If anyone can talk Quentin into doing something that he’s iffy about, it’s you, Laurel,” Oliver said. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, Ollie,” Laurel said, sounding amused. “Will I be seeing you tonight?”

“I’m afraid not,” Oliver replied. “I have a busy schedule.”

“Good luck,” Laurel said, and ended the call. **_*3*_**

Oliver quickly arranged for the Q.C. jet to fly Laurel and her father, if he went, to Metropolis at any time they arrived, and then shut off his phone. Altogether, it had taken fifteen minutes to make the necessary calls and arrange for the safety of everyone he loved who was still in Starling that he could actually get to leave. He unfortunately had no power to get Emiko and her mother out of town, so he would have to just hope for the best. Same with Barry and his father, since they were now living here.

Oliver turned his attention to his arsenal of arrows and began selecting what he would take into the field with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter.
> 
> Chapter Notes:
> 
> *1* This was a very different scene to write. I’ve never written a scene where Oliver acts as the head of the Bratva in Starling during negotiations. Closest thing was an old fic where he pulled a Negan on Alexi with a pipe or something to assert his dominance. Would like to know how people felt about this scene.
> 
> *2* When I wrote the scene way back where Anatoli told Oliver to take control of the chapter, I knew Oliver would sour his relationship with the Bratva soon enough because at the end of the day, he’s not a gangster. He’s a hero who cares deeply for the people of his city, and if he can’t control the Bratva in order to safeguard the people, he’ll stand *against* the Bratva to do so.
> 
> *3* I felt that Oliver lying to those he loves to keep them from worrying about him, or try to, is very in-character for him. It’s also gonna get him in a shitload of trouble with the Lance sisters when they realize what he did. Poor Ollie…


	34. The War Begins

Dinah Laurel Lance looked out at the skyline of Starling City as the plane ascended, looking over at the empty seat that she had hoped her father would be filling. But he had refused, hiding behind the fact that he wanted nothing beholding him to “that punk Queen”, but Laurel was no fool. Something was going on that required all hands to be on deck, and she was suspicious that this had to do with whatever Oliver was hiding from her. He had gotten very good at lying, but he had been pretty obvious in his desire to get her out of town A.S.A.P. But the reason for leaving was one Laurel was willing to take at face value. She and Oliver could talk about his overprotectiveness when she got back.

It would be good to see Thea and Tommy, though it would be bittersweet, knowing Oliver was giving up the guardianship of his sister to their best friend. She knew how much that had to be hurting Oliver, because regardless of how much time and energy he had to devote to the fight for Starling City, he loved his little sister, and Laurel knew it had hurt Oliver deeply that Thea had found she couldn’t handle his work as Green Arrow. Laurel could admit, if only to herself, that she sometimes worried about him more than she should, because he was just one man with a bow and a finite amount of arrows (most of them being what Oliver called trick arrows for non-lethal takedowns) going up against men who were wielding firearms, sometimes even automatics. She knew he had some way of disarming his enemies; she had seen the police reports about the ‘magnetic arrows’ that stripped bodyguards and thugs of their weapons. But what if one day he forgot to take magnetic arrows into the field? Or what if he _couldn’t_ because he needed to pack a surplus of other kinds of arrows?

So, yes, Laurel understood where Thea was coming from, but she trusted Oliver’s promise that he would always come back to her. She closed her eyes and let the feelings that that memory brought with it flood through her. She had no idea how she had ended up here; she was the head of the City Necessary Resources Initiative and dating Oliver Queen, C.E.O. of Queen Consolidated and Starling City’s resident vigilante, Green Arrow. Barely a month ago, she had been a low-level associate at C.N.R.I. and the closest thing she had had to a relationship in five years had been her occasional romp in bed with Tommy. She had been very careful not to attach terms like relationship to their excursions in each other’s beds. In truth, she had felt a little guilty because she had seen he was beginning to develop feelings for her. But those were some of the only times that she had felt _alive_.

Then Oliver had returned and turned her life upside down while worming his way back into her heart by proving that he was the good man that she had always seen, beneath the veneer of the playboy scion.

Laurel sighed and leaned back in the comfortable, leathery airplane seat and closed her eyes, figuring she would catch a few hours of sleep while the plane made the journey to Metropolis; she could only hope her dreams weren’t filled with worrying nightmares about what her boyfriend was up to tonight that he didn’t want her to know about. **_*1*_**

**_*DC*_ **

Green Arrow crouched on the rooftop of a building overlooking Russo’s, bow ready, a zipline arrow ready to fire so he could intercede and keep the people inside Russo’s safe. He had seen the crowd surging into the restaurant and seen the sign proclaiming that tonight was _Family Night_. Green Arrow’s stomach curdled at the thought that the Bratva would attack a restaurant full of families with no guarantee that they would be killing people connected to the Bertinellis. Most of those Green Arrow had seen entering the restaurant tonight looked like your average everyday family living in this part of town. He had known the Bratva could be brutal, had even been as brutal during his time in Russia, but for him that was almost eight years ago, and he had grown and changed as a person in that time. Returning to that darkness, however briefly, with his daughter and son at his side in the lead-up to the Crisis had made him feel like he needed a shower, as had his recent dealings with the Russian mob and Bertinelli.

Green Arrow fired the zipline arrow as he noticed three black SUVs pulling into the one-way street leading to Russo’s. Sliding down with his bow, Green Arrow landed in a crouch in front of the restaurant. The SUVs pulled to a stop, and the shadow of a grin passed across Green Arrow’s features. The Bratva were predictable, at least. Doors opened and Bratva soldiers got out, and in the lead was the one-handed wonder, Alexi Leonov. “ **Turn back now and I’ll _consider_ allowing you to live,**” Green Arrow said, adjusting his grip on his bow, his free hand twitching slightly, palming the signaling device for the three explosive attachments he had placed in the road, directly under where the SUVs had stopped.

“I think not, Kapushion,” Leonov said. “Pakhan is most displeased with you. He is your friend no more, I think. He has asked us to bring you before him when he arrives.”

“ **Anatoli will have to settle for disappointment, because I won’t be judged by the likes of him,** ” Green Arrow replied. He heard the doors of the restaurant open, a quiet gasp, and then the door hurriedly shutting. “ **Last chance, Leonov. Turn back.** ” In response, Alexi gave a signal, and his men moved forward with their weapons raised. “ **As you wish.** ” Green Arrow triggered the explosives.

The SUVs exploded into flaming hulks, the shockwave of the explosions sending the Russians standing near them flying, many with shrapnel buried in their bodies. Leonov himself had a piece of shrapnel buried under his right shoulder from behind, and he was trying in vain to push himself up into a sitting position. He looked up at Green Arrow. “This… changes… nothing, Kapushion,” Leonov managed between pained gasps. “This… is only… beginning.”

“ **Yes, it’s the beginning,** ” Green Arrow agreed softly. He delivered a knock-out blow to Leonov’s head, and then used his finite amount of bolo arrows to tie up the scattered Russians. He turned to check on the restaurant and saw several people staring back through the windows, most horrified at the sight of the Bratva, but more than a few staring at him in hope. He saw more than a few filming him with their phones. He fired a grappling arrow and ascended to the rooftop he had been perched on. The Bratva would take a while to lick their wounds, and the police would be at Russo’s soon since he had ordered Fyff to send the word to Agent Trimble as soon as he engaged the Bratva.

Now it was time to pay a visit to a man that he would rather end the life of, but who in this case held the power to save countless lives. The bitter irony wasn’t lost on Green Arrow. The man who could save hundreds of innocent lives by unshackling the police department was also planning to end thousands of innocent lives.

**_*DC*_ **

Malcolm Merlyn was sitting in his office, watching the news report about the attack by what appeared to be the Bratva on an Italian restaurant, Russo’s. An attack, the news was reporting, that had been thwarted by the Green Arrow. It was ironic; he was owing a great deal to the Green Arrow of late. First, he captures the man who was looking to be the true culprit behind Rebecca’s murder, and now he defends dozens of potential innocents against the Bratva, who were stepping out of their place for some reason. Malcolm would have to dig into that, because he was certain they had had control of the gangs.

The sound of a foot scuffing the rug of his office startled Malcolm, and he looked up only to find the object of his musings staring back at him. “Well, now,” Malcolm said quietly, standing and moving around the desk to close the distance between them just in case this was an _unfriendly_ visit by the city’s resident do-gooder, “this is certainly a surprise. The news is already reporting your work at Russo’s. What brings you from dealing with the Bratva to my office, I wonder?”

“ **Your help,** ” Green Arrow replied coldly, and Malcolm couldn’t help the smirk that came to his features.

“What help can a simple businessman offer the Starling City vigilante?” Malcolm asked.

“ **We both know you’re not just a simple businessman, _Magician_ ,**” Green Arrow replied. “ **You are the former Horseman of Ra’s al Ghul. You are the leader of Tempest, an organization that at its heart is a conspiracy to destroy the Glades and everyone who lives there. To salve your conscience, you’ve consolidated crime in the Glades through the use of a book with a list of names, names like Adam Hunt and Martin Somers.** ”

“You’ve done your homework,” Malcolm acknowledged. “So, what is it that you want? And why have you not come after me if you know all of this?”

“ **You helped broker a deal between the S.C.P.D. and organized crime in this city,** ” Green Arrow replied. “ **I need you to give Nudocerdo permission to end that deal so that the S.C.P.D. isn’t shackled while they protect the people of this city.** ” Green Arrow refused to answer the second question Merlyn posed, as it would tilt the hand in Merlyn’s favor.

Malcolm studied the vigilante carefully. This was the first time he had seen him up close. He was definitely young; he moved young, and what skin Malcolm could see had a smoothness to it that only came with youth. Though that scruff he wore was _familiar_ somehow, as though Malcolm had seen it before, very recently. A thought for another time, he decided. As to the matter at hand? On the one hand, Malcolm knew many of those who would die in the crossfire were those who wouldn’t be mourned in the long run. There was also the vigilante’s interference with Leo Mueller to consider, as that had scuppered Malcolm’s plans to further consolidate crime in the Glades and force the S.C.P.D. to shutter their precinct there. But on the other, he owed the vigilante for Brickwell and saving the innocent families at Russo’s.

“I’m afraid that I can’t help you,” Malcolm finally said, deciding his course of action. He still didn’t know for certain that Brickwell was the man who killed his wife (the police had yet to confirm his chance to confront the man), and those people at Russo’s had to know that it was a favored spot of the Bertinellis and their associates, making it a target for the other crime families and gangs who were trying to give the Bertinellis a black eye. At the end of the day, aiding his enemy did nothing for him.

“ **Innocent people are going to _die_ , Merlyn!**” Green Arrow snarled.

“Then you had best get back out there and protect them, shouldn’t you?” Malcolm replied with a cruel smile. “All those people looking up at the sky in hope, hope that their savior will swing in from the rooftops and deliver them from evil. Such a quaint notion, and an outdated one. I would wish you luck, but in this case, I’m rooting for the mob to end your life.”

“ **We’ll meet again, Merlyn,** ” Green Arrow responded, and then turned and left.

Malcolm leaned back in his seat, a cruel smirk still on his face. “Oh, I’m _counting_ on it,” he murmured. While he would shed no tears if the vigilante met his end at the hands of the Bratva or Bertinellis, there was a part of him that hoped that Green Arrow survived this conflict. Because he truly wanted to find out which of them was the better archer.

**_*DC*_ **

Oliver sighed as he set his bow on it’s stand. He had been so _certain_ that Merlyn wouldn’t want to allow the Bratva and Bertinellis free reign. He had forgotten how cold and calculating Malcolm had been during his first year; losing Tommy and struggling to have a relationship with Thea had humanized Merlyn and made him more susceptible to aiding Oliver and his allies. But this was a Merlyn who hadn’t lost Tommy, and in fact now had him working for him at Merlyn Global, courtesy of Oliver’s urgings, allowing him to forge a connection with his son that would push Merlyn to ensure his plans went off without a hitch. More ripple effects of his changes to the timeline that he remembered.

Oliver turned to Fyff. “Keep digging into the Bratva and Bertinellis,” Oliver said. “I need to know where to hit them to cripple their activities, at least in the short term. Once Anatoli arrives with his reinforcements, and I expect that to be within the next twelve hours, it becomes all the harder to stop this conflict. In the meantime, I’ll catch a couple of hours of sleep and then go to Queen Consolidated, see if there’s anything in the purgatory of Applied Sciences that I can use to upgrade my suit, because I’ll need every edge I can get in this fight.”

“Already on it, G.A.,” Fyff said from his position behind the computers. Oliver replaced the arrows he had used up with new ones, set his quiver beside his bow, and then went to a spare cot that he had set up down here for when he needed to stay close by. He had a feeling that as things heated up between the Bertinellis and the Bratva that he would have few chances to sleep and would have to catch it where he could, especially since Green Arrow was going to have to make daylight appearances for the first time since his debut. “Oh, and the phone’s been ringing. I think Agent Trimble wants to get in contact.”

“And he’ll have to be disappointed,” Oliver said after a moment of indecision. “I’m not at his beck and call, and there’s more important things than calling him back going on.” Oliver stretched out on the cot, closing his eyes. “If something starts happening, wake me, but from a distance.”

**_*DC*_ **

A couple of hours later, Oliver woke up from his sleep and sat up. “Anything happening?” he asked, his voice scratchy, and Fyff jumped at the sudden voice after two hours of silence beyond the beeping of the console he was working on.

“There’s been some rumblings in both camps, but no moves have been made,” Fyff replied. “Could be the Italians already called in reinforcements and are waiting before they hit back.”

“Could be,” Oliver agreed. “And what about our friends in law enforcement? Any rumblings there? What about Helena? Are they planning to move her?”

“The Feds are planning on taking her to the courthouse tomorrow for arraignment,” Fyff replied. “They’re arranging transport with the cops. Thing is, I’m picking up chatter that indicate the Russians, at least, know that this is going down.”

“They’ll try to take the convoy,” Oliver said confidently. “They want Helena to pay for Danakov, and if they can capture a mafia princess, torture and rape her before murdering her, it’ll make the entire chapter happy and send a message that the Italians are vulnerable. That’s not counting the fact that Anatoli is having to back their actions.” That still stung. Anatoli had been a good friend, but at the end of the day, Anatoli Knyasev was a gangster and Oliver was a hero trying to save his city from crime and corruption.

A far cry from when he had started out before, when he would use any means necessary to accomplish the mission. He mused over how his original self would take his actions in the here and now briefly. Considering how mission-focused he had been, he probably would have been beating himself up for sacrificing a tactical advantage like having underworld contacts for the sake of his morality. But he just _couldn’t_ sacrifice everything he had done to be a better man, a better hero. He knew that there were some threats that were beyond the law and he would act accordingly there, but no more would he sacrifice his morality to achieve his goals. That wasn’t the kind of man who could inspire the heroes needed to face the Crisis on Infinite Earths. **_*2*_**

**_*DC*_ **

Thea Queen laid on her bed in the corporate apartments of Merlyn Global’s Metropolis location; Tommy was already working on finding a place to live in the city and had promised her that she would always have a room with him. But thoughts of Tommy, her one-sided crush, and living in Metropolis weren’t what was consuming her thoughts right now. No, what was consuming her thoughts was the YouTube video she had just watched for the third time. The video had been taken by a girl her age at Russo’s, an Italian restaurant in Starling City. It looked like the girl had been filming the outside of the restaurant out of boredom when a convoy of SUVs showed up. A moment later, Thea’s brother in his green hooded uniform dropped between the restaurant and the SUVs as men with guns poured out. Green Arrow had had an exchange with the mobsters (because who else wore suits and drove around in SUVs with automatics), and then the SUVs had exploded, injuring the mobsters and Green Arrow had tied them up after an exchange with a man on the ground who he knocked out.

The argument with Sara in her room at the Empire Hotel had gotten Thea’s blood boiling at the way Sara ripped her a new one, but it had also had her start thinking about what her brother had said, about the impact his crusade was having on other people. So, she had gotten out her phone and connected to YouTube, looking up ‘Green Arrow’. She had gotten lots of videos, uploaded by numerous users, all centered around her brother’s heroics. Him bringing a guy in a red hoodie into the Merlyn Clinic; him taking down some gang-bangers; vlogs by users talking about what Green Arrow and what he was doing in Starling City meant to them; even one vlog comparing Green Arrow to a vigilante in Gotham called Batman, and wasn’t that a shock, finding out her brother wasn’t alone in his theatricality. Thea wondered how Batman had avoided notice and thought her brother could take a page out of his book if he was going to do all this. **_*3*_**

The overall impression Thea got was that people were _happy_ about what Oliver was doing. They were _happy_ that her brother was throwing himself into danger, _happy_ that someone’s son, brother, and lover was risking his life for them. It was sick, Thea decided; it was sick that people could be _happy_ about this sort of thing. Her brother wasn’t some mythical hero from a comic book; he was a human being. He bruised and bled, he suffered heartbreak and loss and he had to push all of that aside in order to be the person these _people_ cheered on in YouTube videos. There were a few naysayers in the comments, hiding behind their anonymity, lambasting the Green Arrow and his interference in police matters, but beyond that, the overall impression Thea got was what she had just been thinking about: people being _happy_ that her brother was throwing himself into danger, risking his life every night while they sat safe in their homes.

Thea shut down the YouTube app and tossed her phone lightly onto the nightstand. She didn’t get it; what the hell had happened to her brother in the past five years to turn him into Green Arrow? The Ollie she remembered from her childhood didn’t really care about helping other people. He avoided charity events, he teased Laurel about her desire to save the world, he didn’t even want to join Queen Consolidated and help provide much-needed jobs to Starling City. So how the _hell_ had he become the man who willingly took the position of C.E.O., promised to bring much-needed jobs to Starling City, and all while doing that flung himself into danger and risked his life for people who he had never met? Tommy was right, her brother’s plans were _insane_ , and everyone who encouraged him were going to be responsible when he died fighting for them, including the Lance sisters.

Thea felt torn. She loved her brother, but she was starting to _hate_ the Green Arrow, because Green Arrow was taking her brother away from her. What was she supposed to do with those feelings? **_*4*_**

**_*DC*_ **

Frank Bertinelli paced his study as Nick Salvati watched on. “I want our own people keeping an eye on that convoy tomorrow,” Frank finally said, turning to Salvati. “The Bratva are going to try and get Helena, and I’m not about to trust the S.C.P.D. to protect my daughter. I don’t care if it’s obvious; I want my daughter protected.”

“And what about the position she’s put us in, sir?” Salvati asked.

“We can handle that once we have her back home,” Frank replied. “Keep her safe, Nick, or it’ll be _your_ head on the chopping block.”

“I understand,” Salvati said. “I’ll have my best men tailing the convoy, assuming they even provide an escort beyond the F.B.I. agents, and spotters on every roof. The Russians won’t get Helena, Mr. Bertinelli.”

“See that they don’t,” Frank said. “And I want one of our people watching Queen Consolidated. We cut the head off the snake, we leave the Bratva writhing more than they already are.” His lips curled up in cruel amusement. “I’ll have to be sure and sell my Q.C. stock. They’re about to have quite the downturn.”

“Yes, sir,” Salvati said, and left to begin making the arrangements.

Frank turned and looked out at the darkened grounds of his estate. Here, in the privacy of his study, he had to ask the questions of himself that others were asking behind his back. Why had Helena killed that Bratva member? Had he gotten handsy with her somewhere else that Frank’s security hadn’t seen? Had she got it into her head that the Bratva were the ones who had killed Michael Staton and she wanted revenge for the man she loved? Or was there something else in all of this? Was there something he didn’t know about his little girl? No, he decided. He knew his Helena. She wouldn’t do anything to risk their family’s livelihood without a good reason. Especially since they had been doing their best to stay legitimate in Starling City, avoid complications that could see the Pact made void. Which, he reflected, the current events were bound to do.

 _We can worry about that later,_ Frank thought to himself. First, he had to secure his daughter’s safety to and from the courthouse, and he had told Gus to do whatever he had to in order to get Helena home instead of locked away after her arraignment. The Bratva had people in every prison, and they would use their people to kill Helena if she were locked away. It was the one place where the Bertinellis didn’t have any sway, at least not at Iron Heights. They had _some_ sway in Gotham or had had some sway before the Batman appeared on the scene. It was one of the reasons they had moved cities, to get away from that damned vigilante, and now there was another one here. _What is this world coming to, freaks dressed up like bats and Robin Hood?_ Frank thought to himself as he sipped at the scotch that he had been nursing throughout his conversation with Salvati.

Though he supposed he should _thank_ the Green Arrow. Some of his lieutenants had been at Russo’s with their families earlier tonight when the Bratva sent their goon squad in to massacre the place. If Green Arrow hadn’t intervened and crippled the team that the Bratva sent, leaving them for the police to pick up, then he could have lost good people. Still, the Green Arrow was the wild card in all of this. Aside from his crippling of the Triad and taking down a minor thug lord, Daniel Brickwell, Green Arrow had stuck to white collar criminals, not organized crime. There was no guarantee Green Arrow would stick to the Bratva. For all Frank knew, the vigilante would target both sides, trying to cripple them as he had the Triad to stop the conflict from spreading. But it was already too late for that. They had picked up chatter that the leader of the Bratva, the Pakhan, was on his way to Starling with reinforcements. Frank had hired every mercenary in the city in response and even sent out a call to an old friend, Carmine Falcone, to see if he would part ways with any of his men for a short time.

There hadn’t been a true mob war for decades. It wasn’t surprising that it would be the Russians, as brutish and short-sighted as they were, who would be the spark for this. They could have profited handsomely from the deal Queen presented, if they had only been willing to let go of the desire to see his daughter punished. Unfortunately for the Bratva, they didn’t understand that organized crime had changed with the times. This would be a quick, if brutal and bloody, war, and then the Bratva would hold no more sway. With the Triad already gone and the Bratva limping away in defeat, Starling City would belong to him. **_*5*_**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter.
> 
> Chapter Notes:
> 
> *1* It’s crazy to think that in this story, only a month has gone by since Oliver’s return to the past. And poor Laurel, trying to wrap her head around how much her life has changed in such a short time, and worrying over Oliver’s safety even while she’s proud of the man that he’s become.
> 
> *2* I have some plans to take some of that weight off of Oliver’s shoulders, but we’ll see how those plans pan out. Not to mention, it’s Oliver, who thinks everything is his responsibility.
> 
> *3* The thing about Batman is that they revealed in “Batwoman” that he *was* known in Gotham City, even if he wasn’t known wider the way Oliver is. Ah, Thea, the difference between Batman and your brother is your brother *wants* to be seen in order to inspire, whereas the Batman depends on striking from the shadows to instill fear in his foes.
> 
> *4* I’m keeping both options open so far as whether it’s going to be Tommy or Thea who is ultimately the Dark Archer to Oliver’s Green Arrow, trying to give them both reasons to go down that path.
> 
> *5* Yep, Bertinelli wants to see his crime family become the ultimate power in Starling’s underworld scene, especially since they seized quite a bit of the Triad’s old territory.


	35. Upgrade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Okay, so I know I said that the arc is complete, but I’ve been looking back on what I’ve written and realized I kinda rushed it so it’s decidedly one-sided in how things play out and really doesn’t showcase the impact of the mob war. I shouldn’t have done that. So, I’m rewriting it from Chapter 35. However, I don’t have the patience to hold off on updating while I work on this arc all over again; once was hard enough. I’ve already got Chapters 35 and 36 rewritten, so I’m still a little ahead as far posting vs writing goes.

Having swung by his apartment building briefly to switch from his motorcycle to the Camaro so that he could carry whatever he found to upgrade his uniform, Oliver Queen pulled his car into a stall in the underground parking structure of Queen Consolidated. Due to the fact that the Bertinellis knew of his connection to the Bratva, Oliver was wearing the outfit that he had worn when he rescued Laurel and when he had killed Thawne, sans face mask. He was also carrying the A.R.G.U.S. issue sidearm out of pure paranoia. He exited his car, looking around carefully, finding nothing out of the ordinary, and headed for the elevator banks. Applied Sciences was housed on Levels 21-23 of Queen Consolidated, with their ‘purgatory’ of rejected projects housed on the 22nd level. It was to this floor Oliver was going in search of a way to upgrade his Green Arrow uniform. He suspected there would be abandoned military projects he could poach since the bean-counters in Washington didn’t go beyond certain prices.

Oliver exited the elevator on the 22nd floor and headed for the computer to search the Q.C. archives and find what was available. Oliver slowed as he approached the computer, because there was someone already there, someone he didn’t quite expect to see here. “Barry,” he said, and the slender young man jumped in his seat and turned around quickly. “What are you doing here this late?”

“Apparently, entry-level job for Applied Sciences is to look after the archives,” Barry said dryly. “That’s what Miller said, anyways.”

“Miller’s the temporary head of Applied Sciences,” Oliver said. “Don’t worry. I’m working on recruiting a new head who I _hope_ will give you a chance to do what I recruited you for.” He gestured to the computer. “May I?”

“Sure,” Barry said, scooting off of the chair. Oliver took his place and typed in his C.E.O. credentials, accessing the files he wanted. “Military applications?” Barry murmured in confusion. Oliver grimaced. He should have sent Barry away, but then again, this was _Barry_. He wasn’t likely to betray Oliver if he already had a sense of hero worship aimed at Green Arrow. Considering he had admired the Hood/the Arrow, Oliver was sure Barry would admire Green Arrow even more since he rarely took a life. “Mr. Queen, what’s going on?”

“It’s complicated, Barry, and it’s Oliver,” the C.E.O. replied as he found a promising defunct project. The RQ-1141 Tactical Hardsuit; designed to enhance the prowess of the soldier who wore it in combat, allowing them to move faster, hit harder, and take more damage. The price for a single unit was 2 million dollars, well above the ‘average price’ of a soldier’s life as far as the bean-counters in D.C. were concerned.

According to the files, the man who had designed this suit had been dismissed by Miller. Oliver would have to reach out to the designer, Jackson ‘Jax’ Briggs, and see if he couldn’t convince the man to come back, though perhaps to head-up his own division, one that would be dedicated to keep giving Oliver the edge he needed over the criminals of Starling City. He double-checked the location where the hardsuit was stored and logged off before taking off in that direction. He could hear Barry following him, jogging slightly to keep up with Oliver’s quick pace, and Oliver was amused to hear the younger man already out-of-breath. He hadn’t heard him like this since before the Particle Accelerator made him into The Flash, which, he realized, was where they were now. Time travel; what a fucking headache. **_*1*_**

Oliver used his C.E.O. credentials to override the storage unit where the hardsuit was kept and pulled it out. He examined it carefully. “Oliver?” Barry asked nervously, both because of his boss’s request he use his name and the fact the man was absurdly interested in a defunct project. “What’s going on? Why are you so interested in this project? It wasn’t viable.”

“Not for the military, no,” Oliver agreed, running a hand over the chestplate, feeling the ridges of the interlocked armor plating. “But this is perfect for what I have in mind.”

“What exactly _do_ you have in mind to do with a two-million-dollar suit?” Barry asked quizzically.

“Giving aid to his brutish friends in the Bratva, no doubt,” a man’s voice said from behind the two, and both Barry and Oliver whirled to find three men behind them, all dressed in the classic long coats of Italian mobsters, Oliver pulling his A.R.G.U.S. sidearm and aiming at the three men, who returned the favor with their Uzis.

“Could the three of you be any more cliché?” Oliver asked sardonically. Barry had his hands up, and he was looking terrified. “I mean, really, long coats, Uzis? What? Were carbines not available?”

“Your jokes hide your fear poorly, Mr. Queen,” said the same thug. “Mr. Bertinelli wishes to cut the head off the snake, as it were. I’m sure you understand.”

“I’ve cut my ties with the Bratva,” Oliver replied calmly. “I have no intention of purposely aiding them. I want nothing more than to stop this mob war before it can take too many innocent lives. You have one chance to walk away. I suggest you take it.”

“You are outnumbered and outgunned, Mr. Queen,” the thug said. “Why don’t you come quietly? We promise it will be quick, for both you and your friend.” Barry gulped at hearing that, all while his genius brain tried to make connections between what was being said. These guys were Italian mobsters and wanted to kill Mr. Queen for something to do with the Bratva, which Mr. Queen claimed to have no more ties to, implying he _had_ had ties to the Russian mob before now. Mr. Queen also wanted to use the hardsuit to stop a _mob war_ from taking too many innocent lives. Who was his boss, really? Because he definitely wasn’t just a businessman who had seen a meteoric rise to the position of C.E.O. for his family company.

Oliver, meanwhile, was calculating the odds of he and Barry getting out of this as things stood. If he depended solely on the A.R.G.U.S. sidearm, than there was a good chance both he and Barry would end up getting shot. Which meant he needed to take the mobsters out at close range. He raised the gun in his hand, turning and placing it on the slab beside the hardsuit before turning back and keeping his hands raised in as non-threatening a way as he possibly could. The mobsters relaxed slightly, though only Oliver’s trained eye could see it, and he had to resist the urge to smirk. So predictable; the target was unarmed, and therefore not a threat. These types of thugs _never_ learned.

“Step forward, the both of you,” the thug ordered. Oliver and Barry, hands raised, did as they were told. Oliver knew to the nano-second when he had a window of opportunity. He delivered a knife-hand strike to the throat of the man who had been speaking, caught the Uzi as it fell from the man’s grasp as his hands went to his throat, and took out the other two thugs with the Uzi, shooting them in the head before rounding on the one he had got with the knife-hand strike and doing the same. Barry was shaking slightly at seeing all of this and looked more than a little green around the gills.

“Take a deep breath, Barry,” Oliver said calmly, putting a hand on the younger man’s shoulder. “Your first kidnap situation is never easy, especially if you’re the one it’s aimed at.”

“How do you know that?” Barry asked, looking at his boss, the man who had recruited him for Queen Consolidated. “Who _are_ you?”

“Both good questions,” Oliver praised, “and I’ll answer them one day. For now, I need you to trust me, Barry; everything that I’m doing, I’m doing because it’s the right thing to do, even if certain people might not agree. I know you’ve suffered at the hands of an unfair justice system; the system in Starling City is worse, I’m afraid, because the police are shackled when it comes to men like this.” Oliver gestured to the dead goombahs. “Excuse me for a moment.” Oliver took out his encrypted cell phone and dialed A.R.G.U.S. Once the line was picked up, Oliver said, “Authentication code 118181523, codename Emerald,” Oliver said. “I need a clean-up crew on the 22nd floor of Queen Consolidated.”

“Understood, Agent Emerald,” the voice on the other end of the line said. “Please hold for the Director.” Oliver closed his eyes for a moment. The last thing he wanted was to speak to Amanda Waller, but he also knew the bitch would just track him down at the Bunker if he didn’t talk to her.

“Oliver,” Waller greeted coolly as she picked up at the other end. “Having a busy night, are we?”

“You could say that,” Oliver said. “What do you want, Amanda?”

“Only to reconfirm the details of our original deal,” Waller replied. “I will support your mission by providing you tacit protection so that you can accomplish your objective, and in return you provide an example for me to use to get Task Force X approved. I did not agree to renditioning prisoners for you and providing a clean-up crew without some compensation.”

“I may have something to adequately repay you,” Oliver replied, “something that may interest you. A scientist that formerly worked for my company developed a hardsuit that allows the wearer to move faster, hit harder, and take more damage. I am going to be tracking the scientist down and bringing him back. I could see us contracting with A.R.G.U.S. for a finite set of these suits, to be used only by your most skilled assets, who can take advantage of their design.”

“What is the price per unit?” Waller asked briskly.

“Two million dollars, according to the records in my Applied Sciences division,” Oliver replied.

“I can approve that for a maximum of five suits,” Waller replied. “That is more than fair compensation for the aid A.R.G.U.S. is rendering beyond the borders of our original agreement. We have an accord, Oliver. I expect, should you be unable to convince the scientist to return to your employ, that you will provide us the details on his location so that we may offer him an alternative source of employment.”

“Of course,” Oliver replied while planning to make sure he convinced Briggs to return to work at Queen Consolidated since no one deserved one of Waller’s recruitment pitches. “Goodbye, Director.”

“Goodbye, Mr. Queen,” Waller replied and hung up. **_*2*_**

Oliver turned to Barry, who was studying him. “What?” he asked.

“118181523 is the numerical equivalent of A-R-R-O-W,” Barry said softly. “Combine that with the codename, and I don’t need you to tell me what’s going on. You’re the Green Arrow.”

“I am,” Oliver said after a moment. “I’m not surprised you figured it out. You’re quite intelligent, Barry. What you don’t know is that I’m operating with the aid of a covert intelligence branch, the Director of which I was just speaking to. They’ll clean up this mess, but the two of us need to be gone when they get here. Help me pack up the hardsuit, and then you should go home for the night. By the time you come in tomorrow morning, this will all be cleaned up.”

“Alright, Mr. Queen,” Barry said. The two men turned and headed back to the hardsuit, Oliver picking up his gun and holstering it before they found boxes to pack the hardsuit away in. And if either Barry or Fyff called this the Arrowsuit, he was going to strangle them. Slowly. With a length of string.

**_*DC*_ **

Oliver returned to the Bunker with the new suit and set it up to begin tinting it a dark, metallic green with the same equipment he used to tint his arrows. Henry Fyff whistled at the sight of the suit after Oliver had assembled it. “Now _that_ is a battlesuit,” Fyff said. “You’ll be able to handle the goombahs and Bratva thugs no problem with this, boss.”

“With any luck, it’ll be tinted and ready to go by the time the Bratva move to intercept Helena,” Oliver replied. “Any news on that front?”

“Yeah, and it’s not good,” Fyff said. “Merlyn’s definitely shackling the S.C.P.D. They’re providing a grand total of two squad cars to escort the government SUV that is gonna be carrying Helena to the courthouse. The Bratva are paying the bill for this. What’s the plan?”

“Find out the route the convoy is going to take,” Oliver said. “I want to analyze all the best points for ambush while the tinting settles. Get me that intel, Henry.”

“On it,” Fyff said, turning to his computers. For the next couple of hours, Fyff hacked into the S.C.P.D. and found everything he could on how, where, and when Helena Bertinelli was going to be transported to the courthouse for arraignment while Oliver worked on tinting his new uniform and attaching the hood to it, making a note to upgrade his hood to something that would be better-suited to this uniform. He could always keep the old uniform and hood in storage on the off-chance someone managed to destroy his new gear and he had to go old school. Maybe a spider-silk or nano-fiber hood?

Oliver set the tinting device aside and stepped back, admiring his work. The hardsuit was now a dark, metallic green, and the hood lay limply around the neck of the hardsuit. “Very nice,” he mused. “Now let’s just hope it performs. They never really got a chance to field test it.”

“So, we’re gonna be working out the kinks as we go, boss?” Fyff asked. “Got the info you wanted, by the way.”

“Yes, we are,” Oliver replied to Fyff’s question as he walked to stand behind Fyff. “What have we got, Henry?”

“The Bratva are definitely paying the cops to deliver Helena to them like a pig for slaughter,” Fyff replied. “The route to the courthouse is going to be going through one of the most congested streets in the city; good thing you’re going in on a bike, cuz you’re going to need that advantage.” Fyff pulled up the map of the route, and Oliver studied it, looking for the best place for the Bratva to intercept the convoy. It would have to be somewhere that the cops could easily abandon the government SUV to the Bratva, but somewhere that the SUV couldn’t get away as easily.

“Here,” Oliver said. “Markham and 25th. It’s the most congested part of the route, and it offers turn-offs that the squad cars can use to escape the Bratva ambush. There are multiple alleyways along this block that the Bratva can hide their vehicles in until the government SUV has passed, and then cut them off at a pre-arranged radio signal along with those ahead of the SUV.” 

“Won’t the cops have a trail car behind the SUV that could get trapped?” Fyff asked.

“Not if they turn off into an alleyway. The F.B.I. agents might not notice right away, and once the Bratva are in position…” Oliver trailed off, leaving that to Fyff’s imagination.

“Checkmate,” Fyff said with a shudder, while thinking that this was probably why Waller liked this guy enough to lease Fyff to him; he had the same warped way of seeing the world that she did, even if he was technically nicer about it. **_*3*_**

“But that’s why we’re going to be there, to stop them.”

“We?” Fyff squeaked in terror.

“Relax, Henry, just a figure of speech,” Oliver said, and Fyff sagged in his seat, relieved that the boss didn’t want him to go out in the field. He was _very_ happy where he was, thank you very much! “I’m gonna get another couple of hours. Let me know if something starts up in either camp.”

“Will do, boss,” Fyff said as Oliver moved to the cot and laid back on it, closing his eyes and thinking of his loved ones, safe in Metropolis.

**_*DC*_ **

Dinah Laurel Lance yawned as she exited the plane, carrying her duffel bag, and found her sister waiting with a car, her lips twitching in amusement. “Ollie wanted you to get around town in style,” Sara teased, and Laurel’s lips twitched. “Come on,” Sara said, taking her sister’s bag and moving to the trunk of the car, which popped open. Sara put the bag in the trunk and shut it. “You’ve already got a room at the Empire Hotel. Again, Ollie wanted you to have the best experience possible.”

“That man is _impossible,_ ” Laurel muttered to her sister as the two climbed into the back of the Bentley, which pulled out of the private hangar where the plane had landed. “I forgot how grandiose he can be; he’s usually so down-to-Earth these days.”

“It’s Oliver,” Sara said with a shrug. “He’s always been larger than life. It’s one reason people love him.”

“Yeah,” Laurel said, leaning back in her seat, looking out at the sky, which was beginning to lighten as dawn approached. “How are Thea and Tommy?”

“Thea’s a whiny little brat and Tommy’s enabling her delusions of importance,” Sara said in her typical blunt fashion. Laurel blinked in surprise, looking at her sister with a raised eyebrow. “Sorry, but I’ve been dealing with those two alone the entire time I’ve been here, and they get on my nerves. Like what Ollie is doing is such a hardship on them. Ollie and I know what hardship really is, and every time I hear Thea complain about him not paying attention to her, I want to slap her across the mouth.”

“Do you think Ollie feels this way, and that’s why he’s doing this?” Laurel asked cautiously. She had thought Oliver was just trying to do what he thought was best for Thea, but what if he didn’t _want_ to deal with raising his teenage sister since she would need him for a lot longer than the time it took for her to turn eighteen, since he was so busy with what he was up to?

“I wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case,” Sara replied honestly. “But… Ollie seems a lot more focused and put-together than I am. Probably helps that he had something to hold onto all these years.” She side-eyed her sister, who flushed at the reminder that Oliver had used the memory of her to keep going. But he had said the same thing about Thea, hadn’t he? And yet here he was, abandoning his sister to the custody of their best friend, who was equally dissatisfied with Oliver’s lifestyle these days. Would he abandon her, too, if he decided she was an inconvenience for his chosen path forward?

Sara noticed something cross her sister’s face. “What’s wrong, Laurel?” she asked.

“It’s stupid,” Laurel tried to deflect the question, but sadly for her, she wasn’t the only one in the car with the Lance family stubbornness streak.

“I’ve been listening to Thea whine about Ollie for almost 24 hours,” Sara replied. “There can’t be anything more stupid than listening to a teenager whine about how complicated their life is. Oh, the drama!” she added sarcastically. The Bentley’s driver choked down a laugh.

“It’s just… Ollie’s got so much he’s doing, and he said Thea helped him get through the past five years, too,” Laurel said. “I just can’t help but wonder if I’m next.”

Sara sighed. She understood why her sister had these doubts. Oliver had faltered in their relationship before, which had resulted in a pattern of on-again, off-again between her sister and Oliver for the four years they had been dating before the _Gambit_. “When Oliver and I were on Lian Yu together, we made a pact that we would see if we could work,” Sara said. Laurel stiffened. “It was wrong of me, but I asked him about it the night I got back to Starling. He told me he hadn’t even thought of it. You are the only woman in his life, Laurel. He only has eyes for you. Don’t think for a moment he’ll abandon you.”

Laurel relaxed, though she was annoyed at her sister for trying to poach her boyfriend right as soon as she got back. Deciding to find a safer topic to talk about, Laurel thought over what Sara had said about Thea. “How have you been listening to Thea for 24 hours if she’s been with Tommy?” Laurel asked suspiciously.

“Because I bugged her,” Sara said with a shrug. “You can finds all sorts of things for the right price, and Ollie’s expense account helped.”

“I don’t think Oliver meant for you to bug his sister using the money from that account,” Laurel replied. She thought it over for a moment. “Do I want to know what she’s been saying?”

“Probably not,” Sara said, faux-cheerfully. “If you did, you’d want to slap her, too.”

**_*DC*_ **

Green Arrow drove through the streets of Starling City, knowing that his appearance in the daylight in an armored outfit was going to cause a stir but knowing there was nothing for it. Helena Bertinelli had been marked for death by the Bratva, and regardless of how their relationship had turned out in the previous timeline, Green Arrow had no desire to see Helena raped, mutilated, and murdered to satisfy the Russians’ bloodlust. As it was, he still had no idea what had happened to her during the last timeline; Chimera had had her mask as a trophy, as well as Rory’s. Oliver knew she had escaped from prison and continued her personal crusade to bring an end to her family’s criminal empire, but he hadn’t actually heard anything about her in years. For all he knew, Chimera had hunted her down years before he targeted Emiko and Green Arrow.

The Starling City vigilante weaved in and out of traffic, listening to Fyff’s updates as he approached Markham and 25th, where the ambush was going to take place. They had confirmed that when Bratva SUVs had moved into position in alleyways an hour ago, and that had left Green Arrow with precious little time to break in the new suit and get used to drawing back his bow with the enhanced strength the suit provided. He was unable to use his flechettes this go around, as they simply didn’t fit around the bracers for the suit, something he would have to address at some point as the flechettes provided him an additional arsenal to what he carried in his quiver.

Green Arrow pulled onto Markham and 23rd and saw the convoy ahead of him, coming up on the light for Markham and 24th. Green Arrow revved his engine, accelerating to catch up, and watched as the follow car peeled off to the left, heading away from the inevitable ambush. Green Arrow saw the Bratva SUVs pulling out behind and in front of the government one, even as the front patrol car peeled away at high speeds. Green Arrow gunned the engine, arriving on the scene as the Bratva poured out of the SUVs. The Bratva surrounded the government SUV, aiming their weapons at the windows, and then Anatoli Knyasev stepped out of one of the SUVs. People abandoned their cars and the sidewalk, hiding behind whatever cover they could find as Green Arrow arrived on the scene, leaping off of his motorcycle, flipping over the Bratva as they were brought low by his motorcycle sliding into them, and landed in a crouch on the roof of the government SUV, bow at the ready and an arrow nocked and ready to fire as he met Anatoli’s gaze. “ **Turn back, Anatoli,** ” Green Arrow growled to the man he wished he could call his friend. “ **This is your only warning.** ”

“I see you have moved on from leather, Kapushion,” Anatoli said carefully. “But your armor will not save you. You are outnumbered. Let us take woman, and we leave. No harm comes to people. That is what you want, yes? For there to be no harm to people of city? I am offering way, Kapushion. Take it.”

“ **I know what your people plan to do Miss Bertinelli,** ” Green Arrow replied. “ **I won’t stand for it, not in my city.** ” Then he loosed the flashbang arrow he had nocked at the largest group of Bratva, turning and loosing a second, and then a third, of the same type of arrow. At the same time, mafiosos seemed to crawl out of the woodwork, and Green Arrow almost groaned at the fact they had carbines. He fired an explosive arrow into the closest group of Bertinelli men, sending them flying backwards. He turned and fired another explosive arrow at the nearest Bratva SUV, specifically to its underside. The explosion lifted the SUV up and over on its side, leaving a hole in the Bratva’s defenses.

The F.B.I. agent driving the SUV didn’t look the gift horse in the mouth and tore out of the location, Green Arrow keeping himself low, depending on the magnetic option for his boots to keep him atop the SUV. He watched as Bertinellis and Bratva scrambled for their cars, ignoring one another, for the prize was on the move. Green Arrow nocked another arrow, ready and waiting. The chase was on, and it was up to him to make sure Helena Bertinelli got to the courthouse alive. Fate loved it’s bitter ironies, he mused as he thought of the last time that he and Helena had been at a courthouse together. That had been an ambush as well, albeit one planned by the F.B.I. with the help of Frank Bertinelli.

Green Arrow fired off a sleeping gas arrow, which broke through the windshield of the lead Bratva SUV where it detonated. The SUV jerked hard to the left and was upended, rolling over and coming to a stop, a battered heap of a vehicle, wheels spinning in the air. The other three Bratva SUVs pulled around, the six Bertinelli sedans following behind. Green Arrow gritted his teeth as he saw a Bertinelli lean out of the window of the lead sedan, aiming their carbine. Green Arrow loosed a basic arrow and it cut through the man’s forearm. He heard the inarticulate yell of pained rage as the man ducked back into the SUV, his carbine clattering to the street. Green Arrow saw the Bertinellis sedans fall back, out of range of his bow. The Bratva SUVs, on the other hand, continued to move forward, gaining ground.

Green Arrow loosed another sleeping gas arrow, but the lead Bratva SUV swerved to avoid it and it glanced off of the hood of the following SUV, clattering uselessly to the street, where it detonated. Green Arrow didn’t allow this to deter him, adjusting his body to turn with the SUV he was mounted on as it swerved in and out of traffic, racing for the courthouse. He hearkened back to his early lessons with Yao Fei, could almost hear the Chinese man’s admonition of “Everything, breathe,” and nocked another arrow. He fired the basic arrow, causing the SUV to swerve away from it, and immediately nocked and fired a flashbang arrow, which punched through the windshield of the SUV and detonated. Once more, the SUV swerved hard to one side and flipped over, rolling end over end, and being left with its wheels spinning.

There were two more SUVs left, and one of them carried Anatoli, who must be seething at Green Arrow’s interference. At least he knew the man who was now likely his former friend was going to keep his identity secret, even if he didn’t keep their history secret. Otherwise Anatoli would have called him by name rather than Kapushion. The two SUVs pulled back, clearly considering their options, and Green Arrow waited with bated breath, watching the SUVs carefully. Finally, they peeled away, and Green Arrow allowed himself a moment to relax. He would stick around until they got to the courthouse. As corrupt as Nudocerdo was, even _he_ couldn’t ignore an assault by not one but two crime families on an F.B.I. transport. The S.C.P.D. would _have_ to act now, regardless of Merlyn’s machinations, or else fall under federal investigation themselves, and more federal interference was the last thing that either Merlyn or Nudocerdo wanted.

Green Arrow remained perched on the roof of the SUV throughout the entire journey to the courthouse, where the SUV pulled to a stop. People on the sidewalk pointed at Green Arrow, whispering to one another, and more than a few pulled out their phones, snapping photos of Green Arrow in his new, armored outfit. Deciding the Bratva weren’t going to try anything now, Green Arrow fired a grappling arrow and swung away, ascending towards the roof of the building opposite the courthouse as the doors to the SUV opened and Agents Trimble and Danvers stepped out, looking around cautiously and catching a glimpse of Green Arrow before he disappeared from view.

“How the hell did he stay perched on the roof all that time?” Alex asked Trimble as she pulled Helena from the SUV.

“How does he do _anything_ that he does?” Trimble replied grumpily. “The man is an enigma.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter.
> 
> So, the whole thing with Oliver’s new suit was inspired by playing “Injustice 2” and “Batman: Arkham Knight”. In fact, I played the latter quite a bit to get into the mindset of what Green Arrow is facing in this arc.
> 
> Chapter Notes:
> 
> *1* Alright, so for those wondering about the look of the suit, it’s based on some armor pieces from Mass Effect 2. The Aegis Vest for the chestplate, Strength Boost Pads for the pauldrons/shoulders, Stabilization Gauntlets for the arms, and Stimulator Conduits for the legs, all streamlined to allow a present-day soldier to perform at peak efficiency (so it’s not bulky and made of more flexible materials than it is in ME2).
> 
> Jackson ‘Jax’ Briggs is technically an OC, but only because all the research I’ve done on New 52 Green Arrow comics doesn’t reveal the full name of ‘Jax’, the man who maintains Green Arrow’s armory in Q-Core. I chose to use Jax Briggs from Mortal Kombat due to the fact that his arms are designed to enhance the user’s strength and it’s a step up from being a tester for such tech to being the one who designs it.
> 
> *2* So, that’s Waller satisfied for the time being, but will Oliver regret promising her five suits? Or will this be a boon in the end for Oliver since it puts A.R.G.U.S. in his debt, albeit briefly?
> 
> *3* Fyff’s comment while thinking about why Waller likes Oliver is a reference to “Smallville”, where Amanda Waller was the head of an organization called Checkmate that she tried to recruit that Oliver Queen into.


	36. The Next Move

Green Arrow returned to the Bunker, wheeling his Ducati into the garage as it closed behind him. He returned to the central ‘command center’. “I have to say, I _like_ this suit,” Oliver said appreciatively as he lowered his mask and hood before putting his bow up on the stand and placing his quiver on the ground beside it. He flexed his hands. “There’s a couple of times the past few years I could’ve used something like this,” he added, thinking of the Dominators and the Crisis. Both of those situations, he would have given anything for an edge like this. He would have to find out what other gems were hiding in the purgatory of Applied Sciences that could be used in his war on crime. “How are things with the Bratva and Bertinellis, Henry?”

“Complicated,” Fyff replied. “The Bratva seem to be unsure how to handle your new appearance, and the Bertinellis are confused as to why you were protecting Helena but also firing on them when they tried to help fight the Bratva. Meanwhile, social media is blowing up with #GreenArrowsNewSuit. People are wondering where you got it.”

“Let them wonder,” Oliver said. He picked up his personal phone, turning it on. He took a moment to prepare himself before he selected Laurel’s name from his contacts.

“Hey, Ollie,” Laurel said distractedly as she picked up. “I’m in the middle of prepping for the guardianship case. Tommy’s got it all arranged so we just gotta go there and handle it. He was surprised to find out you were cutting Thea off until she shows a more mature attitude. I don’t think he expected you to take it that far.”

“I’m sure Thea was ecstatic,” Oliver said dryly, earning a humorless chuckle from his girlfriend, indicating that Thea had probably thrown a fit at hearing she had been cut off and her credit cards cancelled. “I wasn’t really calling for an update, though. I just wanted to hear your voice.” He took a seat on the cot, running a hand through his bristly hair.

“How are you?” Laurel asked seriously.

“I’ve had better days, but I don’t see this thing ending anytime soon,” Oliver replied. “Just… please stay in Metropolis until I tell you it’s safe to come home.”

“Ollie, why won’t you tell me what’s going on? If it’s as big as I think, I’m going to find out from the news anyways,” Laurel said. “Wouldn’t you rather it came from you instead of a jaded reporter who can only speculate as to your motivations?”

 _Well, when she puts it_ that _way…_ Oliver mused to himself. “It’s a mob war,” he said, and heard Laurel’s breath hitch on the other end. “Helena Bertinelli killed a member of the Bratva, who are out for blood. Both the Bratva and Bertinellis are mobilizing. I just got back from defending the government SUV that was transporting Helena to the courthouse from the Bratva.”

There was silence on the other end of the phone for nearly a minute as Laurel digested this news. Finally, she said, “You’re telling me that you’re going up against the Russian and Italian mobs, and you went out in the daytime as well? Oh, Ollie…”

“I’m fine, Laurel,” Oliver said. “Better than fine, in fact. You could say I got an upgrade as far as my suit is concerned. I can handle the Russian and Italian mobs. Don’t worry.”

“I can’t help but worry, Ollie,” Laurel replied. “You’re the man I love, and you’re putting yourself in greater danger than you have since you started. The idea of you going up against the mafias scares me.”

“I’ll be fine,” Oliver repeated. “I wouldn’t be if I had to worry about you. So, please, no matter what you see or hear on the news, don’t come back to Starling until this over.”

“I-I don’t know if I can promise that, Oliver,” Laurel said. “I’'s going to be hard, staying here while knowing you’re in danger beyond what I’ve seen you fight.”

“Believe me, Laurel, this isn’t the worst enemy I could face,” Oliver replied, thinking of Mirakuru soldiers, the League of Assassins, H.I.V.E., the Dominators, Earth-X Nazis, and the Anti-Monitor’s Shadow Demons. “And there’s another element to this. If you come back to Starling, the Bratva could use you against me.” He grimaced. He had never told Laurel about Anatoli in either timeline. This wasn’t going to go well.

“I don’t see how,” Laurel said, confusion coloring her voice.

“Anatoli Knyasev is the Pakhan of the Bratva,” Oliver replied. “He knows what you mean to me, and he will use that to try and force me to do things for him.”

“Anatoli- the man I met at your loft?” Laurel asked in disbelief. “He’s a Russian _gangster_?”

“There’s a lot I haven’t told you about the past five years, Laurel,” Oliver said softly. “Last year, I was in Russia. I was there to kill a man named Konstantin Kovar. The only way to get close to him was to join the Bratva. Anatoli helped me do it, and in the process, I ended up making him the Pakhan. He promised to turn the Bratva around. Unfortunately, too many are stuck in the old way of doing things and he can’t appear weak if he wants them to follow his lead. So, he will use whatever means necessary to bring me back under control. Please, stay in Metropolis, Laurel. Don’t give Anatoli leverage against me.”

“Alright, Ollie,” Laurel said softly, though Oliver thought there was a bit of an edge to her voice that indicated she was suppressing her anger at being lied to. “But once this crisis is over, you and I are going to sit down and talk about what happened to you the past five years. I don’t want to get sideswiped by a piece of your past like this again.”

“I promise we’ll talk,” Oliver replied, and he meant it. He saw Fyff waving at him. “I’ve got to go, Laurel. I love you.”

“I love you, too, Ollie,” Laurel said softly, and Oliver hung up.

He stood and went to stand behind Fyff. “What have we got, Henry?” Oliver asked.

“That bug you planted at the Bratva headquarters is coming in loud and clear,” Fyff replied. Oliver had placed the bug after the incident with Leonov where Anatoli cut off his hand in order to keep an eye on the Bratva here in Starling. “Sounds like your old friend is furious with what you did.” He typed in a command, and the audio from the bug came through the speakers on the computer.

“…and I want it found now!” Anatoli was saying. “I don’t care how far we must dig, where we must go, I want leverage on Oliver Queen! He is key to this conflict; you saw what he can do. We must have that on our side, not fighting us.”

“All those he is close to are gone, Pakhan,” Alexi Leonov’s slimy voice replied, and Oliver scowled at the fact that the spider had somehow scurried away from justice after the incident at Russo’s. What was it going to take to get rid of that miserable cockroach? “He will have made sure they are protected, wherever they are.”

“No man can protect everything he cherishes, not even Oliver Queen,” Anatoli replied coldly. “There is leverage somewhere, we must find it. Seek out aid wherever you must. Dig into Queen’s life. Find vulnerability and pounce.”

“As you say, Pakhan,” Alexi replied.

“And scan this place for bugs,” Anatoli said. “Oliver Queen is no fool. He will have wanted to keep eye on you after last time I was here.”

Fyff shut down the audio. “Sounds like we won’t have our tap into the Bratva for much longer, boss. You sure there’s nothing they can find to use against you?”

“Laurel, Thea, Sara, and Tommy are all in Metropolis,” Oliver replied. “Sara is more than a match for the Bratva and can keep the others safe from them. Emiko is unknown to Anatoli or anyone else.” _And no one knows about William and Samantha now that Mom is dead,_ Oliver added silently to himself. He hadn’t even given that information to Waller, knowing the woman would use it against him at a later date if he did. This time around, William would grow up safe, happy, and completely ignorant of his father and the dark world that Oliver inhabited. “I’m going to get a half hour’s nap.” **_*1*_**

“Will that be enough, boss?” Fyff asked.

“It’ll have to be,” was Oliver’s reply.

**_*DC*_ **

Dinah Laurel Lance had been trying to get back into preparation for her case to transfer guardianship of Thea to Tommy, but her mind kept going back to her conversation with Oliver and the revelations he had dropped on her.

_I just wanted to hear your voice._

_It’s a mob war._

_Anatoli Knyasev is the Pakhan of the Bratva._

_Don’t give Anatoli leverage over me._

“Ollie, what have you gotten yourself into?” Laurel whispered to herself.

“What’s going on?” Sara’s voice asked, causing Laurel to jump and twist in her seat. Sara was leaning against the door jam, eyebrows raised. “How’s Ollie doing?”

“Not good, if our talk was anything to go by,” Laurel replied. “I found out why he wanted us all out of Starling.”

“Do tell,” Sara said, coming and sitting on the edge of the bed, where Laurel had been sitting cross-legged, going over her file.

“There’s a mob war going on,” Laurel replied, and Sara’s eyes widened. “Oliver’s fighting both the Bratva and the Bertinellis, and he’s doing it alone. He says he got an ‘upgrade’ for his suit, but Sara, I’m scared. He’s just one man. If we lose him, we lose Starling… and I lose the man that I love.” The last was said softly, as though Laurel didn’t want to voice such a selfish thought.

“I know,” Sara said softly, remembering Ra’s al Ghul’s decree. If Oliver died, Starling City would face a Cleansing by the League of Assassins, and there was every chance no one would walk away from that. Oliver was fighting a one-man war against forces that wanted nothing more than to keep Starling rooted in decadence and criminality. “But we have to trust Oliver knows what he’s doing, Laurel. He isn’t the same spoiled playboy he was five years ago. He’s changed; we’ve both seen that.”

“But what if Green Arrow isn’t enough?” Laurel asked plaintively.

Sara’s mind flashed back to her youth, all the good times she had had with Laurel, Oliver, and Tommy, tagging along with them despite being two years their junior, and the hijinks they got up to. Now, so much was different. Oliver was fighting to save Starling City as Green Arrow, and Laurel was doing the same in the courts. Tommy believed they were insane, and so did Thea based on her comments that Sara had heard. Sara herself believed Oliver was doing the right thing, and yet she was hesitating when it came to helping him in the fight for their home. What was holding her back?

Fear, she realized. She was afraid that if she helped him, if she went out as the Canary, she would sink back into the abyss that had clawed away at her soul the past three years. An image flashed through her mind of Oliver laying on the ground, bow broken in two, his face bruised and bloodied, as a shadowy archer stood over him. In that moment, Sara knew that she couldn’t stay on the fence anymore.

“Then he’ll have to accept help, even if he doesn’t want it,” Sara said. Laurel looked at her sister in confusion. “I’ve been trying to ignore it all, Laurel, but I _do_ have the skills to help Oliver, to fight against the crime and corruption. I didn’t want to feel forced into doing it, so I’ve taken every chance to get away from Starling. But I don’t want to see Ollie die, either. If you ask me, I’ll do it. I’ll go back and help him.”

“As much as I would like to do that, Sara, I won’t put that burden on you,” Laurel said, taking her sister’s hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. Sara relaxed slightly, because she had been unsure despite her words if she could go through with it. “Besides, I think Oliver is only not worrying about us because you’re here. He knows you would never let anything happen to me, or Thea and Tommy, no matter how much they’re annoying you.” Sara acknowledged this with a nod. “I know we’ll just have to trust Oliver. It’s just difficult, sitting here and knowing that he’s alone in the fight.” Laurel looked down, thinking of the training she was getting from Oliver and from Ted. If only she had been doing it longer, she could be out there helping Oliver fight for their city. She didn’t want to keep sitting by and waiting for the man she loved to get struck down by a lucky blow. She wanted to _be there_ to make sure that blow never landed. Laurel looked back up. “Teach me.”

“What?” Sara asked in confusion.

“Teach me to fight like you do,” Laurel replied. “Ollie is showing me what he can, but even he admits there are some things beyond his ability to teach because he’s not a woman. Teach me how to fight, Sara. Teach me how to be like you.”

“Laurel, you don’t understand what you’re asking,” Sara said, shaking her head. “I was trained how to _kill_ , not how to disarm and knock out the way Oliver does. He’s somehow found the balance between being a hero and being a killer. I haven’t yet. If I teach you, I could hurt you if I get too lost in what I’m doing.”

“I don’t believe that,” Laurel said. “I think you’re a lot stronger than you think. I think that you can teach me, and that you can find that balance yourself. You just need to _want_ to.” Laurel squeezed her sister’s hand again. “Teach me. Please.”

Sara looked at her older sister for a long moment. Finally, she gave a shake of her head. “No, Laurel,” she said. “I won’t risk hurting you.” She stood and left the room, and a perturbed Laurel, behind. What was she going to have to do to reach her sister and get it through Sara’s head that she _trusted_ her? That she knew Sara wouldn’t hurt her on accident. **_*2*_**

**_*DC*_ **

“G.A.,” Fyff called, causing Oliver to sit up on the cot and stand before moving to stand behind him.

“What’s happening, Henry?” Oliver asked.

“The Bertinellis are _pissed_ at the fact that the Bratva tried to snatch Helena,” Fyff replied. “I managed to get into Bertinelli’s home network and I’m using the microphone from his own laptop to listen in on him. He wants to hit the Bratva’s drug operations. Guess they hadn’t shut those down yet.”

“The Bratva run their drug operation out of a tenement building,” Oliver said. “The Bertinellis won’t differentiate their targets. They’re out for blood, and they don’t care who gets hurt in the process.” Oliver went to his quiver, picking it up and swinging it around his torso before picking up his bow with one hand while the other brought his mask back into place and flipped his hood up before activating his voice modulator. “ **Keep me updated on the way,** ” Green Arrow said.

“Will do,” Fyff said soberly as the armored vigilante entered the garage and mounted his bike.

**_*DC*_ **

Green Arrow pulled to a stop at the tenement building that the Russians ran their drug operations out of almost at the same time that the Bertinellis pulled up to it in sedans. Green Arrow dismounted and rushed towards the front of the tenement building, putting himself in between the Bertinellis and the dozens of innocents who had nothing to do with the Russians’ drug operations. “ **Turn back now,** ” Green Arrow said as the men approached, once again repressing a groan at their stereotypical mafioso manner of dress and armament, though this time his groan was partly because even with the new suit, he would have to dodge those carbines. He could take more damage, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t be bruised to hell for it afterward.

“You saved Miss Bertinelli from the Bratva,” said the lead goombah. “Why do you now stand in defense of them?”

“ **Not them,** ” Green Arrow replied. “ **The innocents that would be caught in the crossfire, just like Russo’s.** ” A few of the men stirred at that. Green Arrow noticed this and pressed his advantage, hoping to turn away at least a few of the men. “ **Yes, there are innocent families in this tenement building, families who have nothing to do with the Bratva’s actions, just as your families had nothing to do with Helena’s actions. But if you do this, if you attempt to push passed me and kill any who get in your way, then I will have no choice but to stop you like I stopped the Bratva.** ” **_*3*_**

“We saw what happened that night,” another man said sneeringly, aiming his weapon at Green Arrow. “You were prepared for them, took them all out with a trick. But there’s no trick this time, vigilante. Your bow and fancy suit won’t save you from our guns.”

“ **You think so?** ” Green Arrow replied softly. He tightened his grip on his bow, counting the number of men present. There were ten total; not the worst odds he had ever faced, but it was the first real test of his new suit since all he had done previously was leap onto the roof of an SUV and keep himself perched there with a magnetic seal from his suit while firing off arrows at the chasing Bratva. This was going to be different; it was time to see how the RQ-1141 held up in true combat conditions. Green Arrow didn’t wait for the man to respond, instead nocking and firing a magnetic arrow, which activated and stripped the men of their carbines.

Green Arrow leaped forward, delivering a quick strike to the chest of the closest man, causing him to stumble. Green Arrow delivered a kick to the back of one man’s knee, and the sharp _crack_ that echoed through the courtyard of the tenement building was nearly drowned out by the howl of pain that came from the man in question. Green Arrow didn’t slow, delivering a series of quick blows to the ribs of the man he had first struck, driving the breath from his body before delivering a quick right hook with the brass-knuckle grip of his bow, and the man collapsed, dazed with a bloody jaw. A quickly-fired bolo arrow took him out of the fight for good. Green Arrow leaped forward, catching the arm of the next man to take a swing at him and pulled hard. There was a light _pop_ and the man let out a grunt of pain as his shoulder dislocated. Green Arrow delivered a quick, decisive blow to the man’s temple, putting him out of the fight for good.

One of the men landed a lucky blow to the back of Green Arrow’s relatively unprotected head, and the Emerald Archer stumbled slightly, emboldening the Bertinellis. They moved in quickly, grabbing his arms and pulling them taught, exposing his chest. The man who had told him he was no match for their guns moved forward now and delivered three quick strikes to Green Arrow’s face, leaving his nose bleeding profusely along with a split lip. Green Arrow shook his head to clear it and then struck with his leg, delivering a measured high kick to the man who had been punching him. The man was flung backwards, arms cartwheeling, before he landed on his back.

Green Arrow gripped the collars of the men holding his arms and then pulled them inwards. They were thrown off-balance by this unexpected form of attack, and Green Arrow was able to twist out of their grips as a result. Green Arrow tucked into a roll and then sprung to his feet, turning and firing a flashbang arrow before turning away and blocking an attempt to club him with one of the carbines. He gripped the weapon in both hands and wrestled it from the thug’s hands before delivering his own strike with its butt, knocking the man out of the fight. Green Arrow flung himself at the two recovering from the flashbang arrow, delivering three quick strikes each to their chins, discombobulating them. Green Arrow brought their heads together with a _crack_ and let them drop bonelessly to the ground.

Five down, five left.

The man whose leg Green Arrow had broken had managed to crawl to one of the carbines and grabbed it and was even now firing it in Green Arrow’s direction. The bullets impacted the armored outfit, causing sparks to fly, and Green Arrow was forced to fire a bolo arrow blindly. The attack stopped, and he looked to find that the man’s arms were bound to the ground along with the carbine he had been wielding. Green Arrow moved quickly and delivered a crushing kick to the man’s skull, taking him out of the fight. Green Arrow turned and fired a second magnetic arrow, once more stripping the remaining men of their weapons, this time making sure the guns weren’t easily retrieved. Green Arrow dived into their midst, delivering a strike to the ribs here, a knife-hand strike to the neck there, a couple of successive strikes to the solar plexus for this one, and a triple-headbutt for the last man.

The one who got hit by the triple-headbutt collapsed, face bloody, and Green Arrow delivered a quick left hook to his right temple, knocking him out of the fight. He fired a bolo arrow at the man who was briefly paralyzed by the strikes to his solar plexus, and then delivered a crippling blow to the back of another man’s knee before delivering three quick strikes to the back of the downed man’s head. **_*4*_**

The man who he had hit with a knife-hand strike had recovered and was coming at him. Green Arrow delivered a quick hard strike to the diaphragm, causing the Bertinelli man to expel his breath in one harsh _whoosh_ of air, and then a second strike to the neck to paralyze the windpipe. The man grabbed at his neck, choking, and Green Arrow grabbed him by the collar, pulling him close. “ **Listen to me very carefully, you son of a bitch,** ” Green Arrow said. “ **I am allowing you to go to deliver a message to Bertinelli. Any attacks that threaten the lives of innocents will be met with force, and I don’t care who it is who’s doing it. Bratva or Bertinelli, I will break them as surely as I have broken your men. Nod if you understand.** ” The man nodded frantically. “ **Good. Now get out of here.** ” Green Arrow shoved the man away from him. The man fell back on his ass and scrambled away on his hands and feet before getting to his feet and racing for the nearest sedan. “ **What happened to the Bratva that attacked Russo’s?** ” Green Arrow asked.

“They were released within an hour of being arrested because some fancy lawyer pointed out that a vigilante had attacked them and they hadn’t actually done anything wrong,” Fyff reported. Green Arrow snorted in disgust before turning to observe the Bertinelli men he had laid out. If he left them here, helpless, the Bratva would kill them; but if he had the S.C.P.D. come get them, they would be back in Bertinellis service in under an hour. Well, those that could _walk_ , at any rate. Green Arrow grimaced, because this was the sort of morally gray area that he used to excel in making decisions with. The old him would just kill these men. They had been a threat to his city, probably had numerous crimes to their name, and technically, they would probably be dead even before the S.C.P.D. got here if he went that route, because the Bratva had to have seen this whole thing.

In the end, Green Arrow acknowledged that he couldn’t control what other people did; he could only control his own actions. He had sent his message to Bertinelli and stopped a massacre of innocent civilians. But mobsters killing mobsters wasn’t something he was going to concern himself with. He turned and headed for his bike, knowing he was consigning nine men to death and finding himself oddly troubled by it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter.
> 
> Chapter Notes:
> 
> *1* Poor Oliver has no idea Malcolm is fully aware of his ‘secret family’. But will this information be shared with the Russians, or will Merlyn keep it to use himself?
> 
> *2* I think Sara would be hesitant to train Laurel simply because the League trains it’s people to KILL, not incapacitate, and Sara would be afraid of accidentally hurting Laurel badly if she got into the flow of fighting during a sparring match.
> 
> *3* This is Oliver’s attempt to try things Barry and Kara’s way and not just go in ‘arrows blazing’. A part of this story is about him trying to be a better hero than he was.
> 
> *4* This was heavily inspired by fighting mobs in “Arkham Knight”. 


	37. Legalities

Dinah Laurel Lance stood as directed by the judge. “Your Honor, Dinah Laurel Lance, representing Mr. Oliver Queen, the current guardian of Miss Thea Queen, his sister,” Laurel said. “It is Mr. Queen’s wish to transfer custody of his sister to Mr. Thomas Merlyn. Miss Queen has expressed a disconnect with her brother over the past two weeks since the death of their mother, as Mr. Queen is caught up in the business of running Queen Consolidated, pursuing therapy for his years of trauma after being lost at sea five years ago, and simply re-establishing his life. Mr. Queen feels that he cannot give Miss Queen the love and care that she deserves, and recognizes that Mr. Merlyn, who has been like a brother to them both over the years, is more suited to being there for Miss Queen in the way that she requires.”

The judge looked over his glasses at Laurel, his gaze stern. “And where, may I ask, is Mr. Queen? Should he not be here to tell us, in his own words, why he has chosen to abandon his own flesh and blood?”

“Mr. Queen regrets that he is unable to get away from Starling City, but the rigors of running a multi-billion dollar business empire are among the reasons stated for his inability to act as a guardian for Miss Queen,” Laurel replied uneasily, knowing this would do Oliver no favors in the eyes of either the judge or Tommy and Thea. “He has sent a prepared statement along for your perusal, Your Honor.”

“Very well,” the judge said, gesturing for it, and Laurel took the prepared letter, sealed in an envelope so that no one was aware of it’s contents before it made it into the hands of the judge, out of her briefcase and handed it to the bailiff, who took it to the judge. The judge opened the letter and took it out, perusing it carefully. His eyes flickered to Tommy and Thea for a moment in surprise before returning to the letter, and Laurel’s uneasiness intensified. What had Oliver told the judge about Tommy and Thea that had him so surprised? What was there to be surprised about? Tommy had been a part of Oliver’s life since they were babies. Finally, the judge set the letter down, removing his glasses and cleaning them for a moment. A stalling tactic Laurel recognized from judges in Starling that had just been given troubling information that turned a case on it’s head.

The judge returned his glasses to their proper place and met Laurel’s gaze. “Miss Lance, did Mr. Queen inform you of the contents of the letter that you provided me?”

“No, Your Honor,” Laurel said, still feeling uneasy and now adding confusion to that uneasiness. “He only said that it would clear up any confusion as to why Mr. Merlyn was his choice of guardian for Miss Queen.”

“I see,” the judge said. “This is… troubling. Mr. Merlyn, did Mr. Queen ever tell you why he was having you take charge of Miss Queen?”

“No, Your Honor,” Tommy replied. “I tried to get him to tell me what was going on, but he refused to share the details.”

“This is an ugly mess,” the judge declared. “In his letter, Mr. Queen has revealed a truth that his father shared with him before his death aboard the _Queen’s Gambit_. According to Mr. Queen, his father informed him that Miss Queen was not, in fact, the daughter of Moira and Robert Queen, but the result of a brief affair between Moira Queen and Malcolm Merlyn.” Thea’s wordless yelp of shock and dismay saw the judge give her a compassionate look. “I do not understand why your brother would choose not to share this with you, Miss Queen, but combined with his general lack of care in not even deigning to show up to this hearing, I am inclined to grant the transfer of guardianship. But before I do, I want to hear from Mr. Merlyn about how he feels about this new revelation and if it has changed his opinion.”

“It has not,” Tommy said determinedly, and Thea looked over at him, shock and hope warring in her features. “I’ve always seen Thea as a little sister, Your Honor. To know she actually is, and to know Ollie has hidden that from me for four weeks? I wish I could say I’m surprised, but the Oliver Queen that now lives in Starling City is not the Oliver Queen that I knew, Your Honor. He is secretive and he doesn’t seem to care who he hurts in how he acts. He couldn’t even bring himself to come to Metropolis to look for Thea when she ran away, instead sending someone who, to my knowledge, has no experience tracking people down. I, on the other hand, came here as soon as I could after finding out Thea had run away, with my- _our_ father giving me contacts in Metropolis to find Thea. To find out now that I really am her brother explains why I’ve always felt so protective of her, and I promise that I will continue to do what I have to do in order to do that.”

“And what will you do as far as providing for Miss Queen, as Mr. Queen has indicated he intends to cut his sister off due to her immature decision to run away to Metropolis?” the judge asked.

“I am just as wealthy as Oliver, am gainfully employed in my father’s company, and will provide Thea with a safe and happy home for as long as she needs it, whether that’s months or years,” Tommy replied.

“And what of discipline, Mr. Merlyn? Miss Queen is nearly an adult, and you are not yet thirty. How will you keep Miss Queen from running roughshod over you, as Mr. Queen claims in his letter his sister had been doing over the past few years with her mother and stepfather?” Thea’s face burned with anger and shame at the reminder of her years of drug use.

“If Thea does something that I consider to be wrong, I will punish her for it,” Tommy said. “I will ground her, take away whatever privileges she has, restrict her movements. The one thing I will not do, though, is strike her for any reason.”

The judge examined Tommy silently for a moment before taking his glasses off. “This is an unusual situation,” he said. “We have a young woman with two half-brothers. One has custody but refuses the responsibility because of other responsibilities and his own personal difficulties, while the other is fully willing but has no practical parenting experience. Miss Queen, as you are seventeen and will only need a guardian for a few months, your word carries some weight here. Which brother do you wish to live with?”

“Tommy,” Thea said. “He came here for me even before he knew I was his sister, and we can figure out what that means if I stay with him. Ollie’s made it clear where I stand in his life.”

The judge nodded. “Very well. Transfer of custody is approved. I understand Miss Lance has all the necessary paperwork, so all you’ll need is to sign and file those with our offices here, Mr. Merlyn.” **_*1*_**

“Understood, Your Honor,” Tommy said. The three Starling City residents (though Laurel supposed that wasn’t true of Tommy and Thea anymore) stood and left the courtroom. “So, did Oliver tell you what was so important?” Tommy asked Laurel.

“Not here, Tommy,” Laurel replied, knowing that neither Tommy nor Thea would be quiet if she told them that Oliver was caught in the middle of a mob war. Hell, she was still pissed that he hadn’t told her what was happening, just rushed her onto his family’s plane and sent her to Metropolis. She hadn’t said anything when they were on the phone because that wasn’t what Oliver needed right now, the distraction of an angry girlfriend. But once this was over, she was going to have words with him about sending her away. Hadn’t they already had this discussion? She was safer at his side, not pushed away and hidden in a closet like some delicate china figurine.

Tommy didn’t respond to Laurel’s refusal to answer, and the three continued to the offices where they would sign the transfer of custody papers and make Tommy Thea’s official guardian. Laurel was trying to wrap her head around the fact that Tommy and Thea were also brother and sister and wondered why Oliver had kept this from them for so long. Then she realized it was because he hadn’t expected his mother to die and leave his sister’s custody up in the air. In the end, he had made sure she ended up with someone who would support her, because God knew that Malcolm Merlyn wasn’t worth being called a parent, even if you ignored the fact that he was a psychopath bent on destroying the Glades for what happened to his wife.

**_*DC*_ **

Malcolm Merlyn was surprised to hear from Lieutenant Pike that he had arranged a meeting between Malcolm and Daniel Brickwell, but he had leaped at the chance. It was time to find out for certain whether Daniel Brickwell was the one who had murdered his wife and set him on the path to Nanda Parbat and the development of his quest for vengeance against all those who had stood by and watched as his wife bled out into the streets, begging for aid, the way Malcolm had heard her beg in the voicemail message she had left him. Malcolm entered the 16th Precinct, where Brickwell was being held, and noted there was quite a bit of activity. “What’s going on?” he asked Lieutenant Pike.

“Green Arrow,” Pike said. “He’s coming out in the daylight now. Has the F.B.I. scratching their heads, especially since he’s got some kind of armor he’s wearing. Heard one of them muttering about how he’s like no vigilante the F.B.I. has ever chased.”

“Interesting,” Malcolm mused. He hadn’t expected the Green Arrow to begin performing his heroics in the light of day but stick to crippling the Bratva and Bertinellis at night. This was an unexpected and _troubling_ development. If Green Arrow was willing and able to strike in the daylight, then there was certainly something unusual about the vigilante. Even the one that had cropped up in the Glades for a little over a year before falling quiet, leaving thugs bleeding and broken from severe beatings, had stuck to the shadows and fighting at night.

“Alright, you’ll have five minutes,” Pike said. “That’s all the Commissioner can allow. Brickwell’s restrained, but we advise you to keep your distance all the same.”

“Understood, Lieutenant,” Malcolm said, and entered the holding room. Brickwell was handcuffed to the table, and he looked up as Malcolm entered. For a moment, Malcolm just studied the man. He was shaven-headed, and his skin had a rough, unattractive quality to it. He was dressed in an expensive suit that belied his obviously humble beginnings, and he sneered as he met Malcolm’s gaze.

“What you looking at? You’re no cop. You’re dressed too expensive for any but dirty cops, and I know all the boys on the take and you ain’t one,” Brickwell sneered.

“You’re very proud of your criminal nature,” Malcolm observed as he stepped closer to the table. “They tell me that you’re quite proud of your achievements, even brag about how everyone you’ve killed, you killed with the gun found in your possession. I have an interest in that weapon, Mr. Brickwell.”

“What interest you got in my piece?” Brickwell demanded to know.

“Because the police ballistics report ties it to the murder of my wife,” Malcolm said, pulling a smaller version of the picture he kept in his lair out of his wallet and placing it on the table. “If you’re so proud of your accomplishments, then tell me: did you kill her? And if you did, _why_? I’ve waited almost twenty years for the answer to this question, Mr. Brickwell.”

Brickwell blinked, frowning. “Almost twenty years…” he muttered to himself. He peered at the photograph. “Yeah, I remember her,” he said after a moment, leaning back and giving a self-satisfied, lecherous smirk at Malcolm. “You never forget your first, Mr. Fancy Pants. I remember that pretty little brunette, alright. She begged me not to do her, whimpering about her loving husband and her baby boy and how they needed her! I grabbed her, shoved my gun into her gut, and pulled the trigger. I watched the pain fill those pretty eyes of hers, the despair of knowing that she was _dead_. I stood there and watched as she called someone, only to die whimpering, _all alone_.”

“You didn’t tell me _why_ you did it,” Malcolm managed to get out after a moment.

“Oh, yeah,” Brickwell said off-handedly. “It was nothin’. She was my initiation into the Orchid Bay Butchers.”

“You-You killed my wife to get into a _gang_?” Malcolm asked, backing up in part to keep himself from leaping at the smug bastard and beating him to a pulp. It wouldn’t do for the police to see his true nature. It would make it harder to hide who was truly responsible for this man’s much-assured death if he gave them suspicions about him before he was ready to strike.

“I killed her because she was _weak!_ ” Brickwell laughed. Malcolm’s hands curled into fists. Brickwell noticed and barked another laugh. “Whatcha gonna do, Mr. Fancy Pants? Beat me? In the middle of the police station? Go ahead. My lawyer will get me released because these bastards let you. Go on, hit me. I dare you!”

Malcolm gave a shaky breath and then turned and walked out of the room, returning the picture to his wallet. Pike stepped out of the observation room and met Malcolm. “I’m sorry, Mr. Merlyn,” he said. “I’m sure that that wasn’t easy. But if it helps, you got more out of him than we did. We’ll nail him to the wall for what he did. Your wife will get justice, Mr. Merlyn.”

“I know she will,” Malcolm said, shaking Pike’s hand. “Thank you for allowing me this indulgence, Lieutenant. I won’t forget it.” Malcolm left, ignoring the hubbub surrounding Green Arrow from detectives and agents alike. The vigilante meant nothing at the moment; all that mattered was returning home and calling Tommy, letting him know what had happened. Rebecca’s murderer was in custody. Once he had told his son that his mother’s killer was going to face justice, Malcolm could begin planning how to take his revenge. There were so many ways, ranging from storming this precinct in full archery leathers to ambushing the convoy to simply paying off the warden at Iron Heights to let Malcolm slip through the surveillance and end the life of the man responsible for nineteen years of grief and misery.

Though now that he thought about it, he had forgotten to ask Brickwell why he had looked curious about the number of years specified. Well, he could always ask Brickwell that the next time they met, right before he removed his voice box. **_*2*_**

**_*DC*_ **

“G.A., we got a new way of listening in on the Bratva,” Henry Fyff said, bringing Oliver over from where he had been restocking his quiver. He had had to go from one attack from the Bertinellis on the Bratva holdings to the next, depleting his stock of arrows in the process. He had been forced to return to the Bunker out of necessity. “The Bertinellis are backing off for the time being; they want to wait for their reinforcements. Sounds like they’re getting some ‘specialists’ from Gotham tied to the Falcone crime family.”

“That’s not good,” Oliver said grimly, and not just because he suspected that meant the likes of Victor Zsasz, assuming the man wasn’t currently locked away in Arkham Asylum. If any ‘special’ criminals from Gotham City were coming to Starling, then it was possiblle that the Batman would follow, and that could potentially mean a clash of methods between he and Gotham’s Dark Knight, depending on what measures the Batman was willing to take. He knew who it was under the mask, of course; it had been simple to figure out even before Kate Kane revealed herself at the beginning of the Crisis on Earth-38. Both Bruce Wayne and Batman had vanished from Gotham three years before the Elseworlds incident, which would’ve coincided with the death of Ra’s al Ghul at Oliver’s hands. Oliver briefly mused over whether there was any connection between Batman’s disappearance and Ra’s’ death before focusing on the matter at hand. “You said you found a new way to listen in on the Bratva?”

“Yeah,” Fyff said, grinning. “Sent a string of emails with malware attached. More than a few opened it, including your buddy Alexi.” Oliver smirked at that. No doubt Leonov was having a hard time of it with only one hand. “Anyways, we got ears inside the Bratva again, and just in time. Looks like Helena Bertinelli was granted bail, and her father’s arranged one hell of an escort home. Some are pushing for an attack on the convoy, but Knyasev is refusing, saying it would be suicide to attack them so openly. He wants to whittle them down the way the Bertinellis have been trying to do to the Bratva. He’s had his men scouting out different locations as well as keeping an ear out for what you’ve been up to.” Fyff brought up a map of Starling City and brought up three points of interest.

“What’ve we got?” Oliver asked.

“So, Target A is Bertinelli Construction’s latest site,” Fyff replied. “They want to strike right before everyone goes home for the day, maximize casualties.”

“And the others?” Oliver asked.

“Target B is the Bertinelli weapons depot,” Fyff replied. “It’s in the warehouse district. A lot of guards, and not a lot of people around except the homeless who live in some of the rundown buildings there.” Fyff brought up the third target. “Target C is… boss, you’re really not going to like this.”

“Tell me, Henry,” Oliver said, his stomach twisting, because he recognized the building from all the time he had spent there.

“Lot of Bertinelli’s crew send their kids to Berlanti Preparatory,” Fyff said. “They all go to and from school on the same bus along with a bunch of other kids.” Fyff was looking ill. “Boss, please tell me…”

“We’re going to help the kids,” Oliver said, putting an armored hand on Fyff’s shoulder. “Anatoli should know better than to bring children into this.” He shook his head. How had the man who had told him that Oliver was reminding him of Anthony Ivo and Slade Wilson mere weeks ago decided that taking a bus full of children and either holding them to ransom or outright killing them was a good idea? Because that had to be the idea. Turn Bertinelli’s men against him by threatening their own children, get Bertinelli’s men to bring Helena to them of their own volition. Oliver snatched up the encrypted phone. “We’ll send the F.B.I. to the construction site.” **_*3*_**

“Shouldn’t you send them to the weapons depot as well?” Fyff asked.

“In that case, it’s mobsters killing mobsters,” Oliver replied. “Let them wipe each other out.” Fyff nodded in response as Oliver dialed Trimble’s number.

“Green Arrow?” Trimble questioned as he picked up.

“I’ve kept the Bertinelli’s from doing anything stupid for the time being, but the Bratva are planning three simultaneous attacks,” Oliver said. “I can handle one, but I need you to handle one of the others.”

“Why one? Why not both or all three?” Trimble asked.

“It would spread your available agents too thin,” Oliver replied. “The third target is a weapons depot. It’ll be mobsters killing mobsters with few, if any, innocents to be caught in the crossfire. The target I need you to focus on is Bertinelli Construction’s most recent project. They plan to hit at the same time as the other target.”

“Which is?” Trimble asked after telling someone to find out what Bertinelli’s most recent construction site was.

“A bus from Berlanti Preparatory,” Oliver replied, and Trimble swore. “I’m going to make sure those children aren’t harmed, Agent Trimble. Knyasev has crossed a line with this one.”

“You expect something different from a gangster?” Trimble asked. Oliver didn’t answer, because he had had high hopes for Anatoli turning the Bratva around. But it appeared something dark and twisted had always existed within his friend, and now that dark, twisted thing had come out to play. “I’m telling the S.C.P.D. about the bus. This is too important to leave it to a vigilante. And tell me where that depot is.”

Oliver sighed and turned to the computer, checking his facts, before giving the details to the agent. “Good luck, Agent Trimble,” Oliver said.

**_*DC*_ **

Laurel was in her hotel room when there was a knock at the door. She stood, going to it, and checked outside first to see who it was, smiling softly when she recognized her visitors. She opened the door. “Tommy, Thea, come in,” she said, stepping back and swinging the door wide open.

“Is Sara here?” Tommy asked cautiously. He didn’t really like the new Sara. She thought she had the right to judge him for not understanding Oliver’s insanity and felt compelled, almost, to attack him for his beliefs.

“She’s out getting food at a Thai place a few blocks away,” Laurel said. “Truth is, I think she’s getting antsy. Oliver gave her the option to use the expense account he gave her to travel, see the world on his dime. I think she’s gonna take him up on the offer.” The three took seats on the couch and chair that came with the room. “What brings you by?”

“I’d like an answer to the question you refused to answer at the courthouse,” Tommy said. “I brought Thea with me because Oliver’s still her brother, and she deserves to know what he’s keeping from her.”

Laurel sighed; on the one hand, she wanted to tell Tommy, to talk to someone about her worries other than Sara, who was fully in support of Oliver’s mission even if she was on the fence about helping, but not at the expense of Thea learning the truth. “I’m sorry, but if you’re going to insist that Thea hear it, I can’t tell you,” Laurel said. “Oliver doesn’t want Thea to know certain things.”

“Like what’s wrong with _our_ father?” Tommy asked. Laurel jerked in place before staring hard at Thea, who refused to look ashamed at telling Tommy the sensitive information. “Yeah, Thea told me something’s up with my Dad that has you and Ollie looking at him like he’s an enemy.”

“Yes, like what’s going on with Malcolm,” Laurel said finally. “And no, I’m not going to tell you what that is. You want to know? You’ll have to get your answers from Oliver.”

“Like he would tell me,” Tommy scoffed. “I kept trying to get him to tell me what’s going on, but he just kept saying it wasn’t anything to worry about and that he wanted me to take custody of Thea.”

“You’ll just have to trust that Ollie knows what he’s doing,” Laurel said, though for the first time, she was beginning to doubt her own words. Oliver had kept a _huge_ secret from Tommy and Thea. Even if he didn’t want to risk Malcolm finding out before the guardianship was secured, he should have given Tommy and Thea warning; or her, for that matter. She couldn’t help but feel sorry for Thea, because while she still had one parent alive, that parent was going to have to face justice for his plans for Starling City.

Before Tommy could say anything, his phone rang. He pulled it out and looked at it. “Well, look who it is,” he said, holding up his phone and showing that it was Malcolm calling. He answered it, holding it to his ear. “Hey, Dad.” A silence. Then… “What did you say?” Tommy asked hoarsely, earning worried looks from both Thea and Laurel. “They’re sure it’s him? _You’re_ sure it’s him?” Silence as Malcolm answered Tommy’s questions. “But how did they finally catch him after all these years?” Silence, but whatever Malcolm was saying affected Tommy deeply, because he met Laurel’s eyes with raw emotion shining in his eyes. “Thanks, Dad,” Tommy said. “I’ll be here if you need to-to talk. Bye.” Tommy hung up the phone.

“Tommy, what happened?” Laurel asked, worried that something had happened to Oliver.

“Oliver captured a guy named Daniel Brickwell a few nights ago,” Tommy said. “They ran ballistics on his gun. Dad confronted him with the information, wanting to know it was true, and Brickwell confirmed it.” Tommy looked up at Laurel. “Daniel Brickwell killed my mother. And Ollie caught him.”

“Oh, my God, Tommy,” Laurel breathed, standing from her chair and moving to the couch, sitting next to him and putting her arm around his shoulders. Thea took his hand, squeezing it, and tears leaked from Tommy’s eyes as it really hit him. His mother’s killer was in custody because his vigilante best friend had captured him. This felt different as a result. This had a _personal_ impact on him. His _mother’s killer_ was in custody. Ollie had used his skills to track down the man who murdered Rebecca Merlyn nineteen years ago and ensured he would face justice.

How could he honestly stay angry at Oliver after he had done that?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter.
> 
> Chapter Notes:
> 
> *1* I toyed with the idea of the judge refusing transfer of guardianship and forcing Thea to return to Starling (and thus force Oliver to take responsibility), but at seventeen, Thea can make the choice for herself, and she was never going to choose Oliver under the current circumstances.
> 
> *2* In the original selection of chapters for the mob war, Malcolm wasn’t able to see Brickwell before he was shipped off to Iron Heights. I wanted to make sure it happened this time. I would say ‘Poor Malcolm’, but… It’s MALCOLM.
> 
> *3* This is also Anatoli putting Oliver into a position of having to choose the lesser of two evils. Does he save the children or the construction workers? Because Anatoli knows Oliver won’t go for the depot.


	38. The Prep School Abduction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Just need to give everyone a heads-up that I am close to reaching burnout on this story, and since I am trying to avoid that sort of thing, I’m going to be taking a break from this story for a while. This chapter represents a good ‘stopping point’ in this arc (which is really getting huge as I’ve reached Chapter 41 and it’s still going), so there won’t be any more updates after this one despite having more chapters available. I don’t want to leave you guys on a major cliffhanger.
> 
> In the meantime, I’m gonna be working on a story with a different pairing, because part of the burnout is the pairing. I love Oliver/Laurel, but I’ve been writing almost nothing but this pairing for four years now, ever since Guggenheim and Mericle killed Earth-1 Laurel in 4x18.

Green Arrow weaved in and out of traffic, ducking through traffic lights and around garbage trucks as he raced towards Berlanti Preparatory. As much as he hated to admit it, there was no way he was going to make it to Berlanti Prep in time to catch the bus coming all the way from the Glades; he was going to have to pick the bus up on the go. “ **Anything to report?** ” he asked Fyff over the radios.

“Just some really weird comments about the bus driver,” Fyff said. “I’m running a background search on the guy now, just in case there’s something funny about him.”

“ **Good work,** ” Green Arrow praised. “ **What’s the response from S.C.P.D.?** ”

“Like you expected, nothing,” Fyff said. “They told Trimble they’d take care of it, but they haven’t even sent a warning to the school, and you remember what happened when we tried it earlier.” Green Arrow grimaced. They had tried to send a message about a threat to the students to the security office, but the security office had just called the police to confirm if the threat was viable and been assured that it wasn’t, that they had received the same message and had determined that it was a prank. Green Arrow couldn’t believe the amount of corruption in the S.C.P.D., that they would so blatantly disregard a threat to _children_. He had known they were corrupt, but not to this degree since they had accepted the evidence he provided, as had the A.D.A.’s who got the cases attached to his aid. He was going to have to think long and hard about whether he should deal with Nudocerdo himself. The last time around, the bastard had been killed by Mirakuru soldiers. **_*1*_**

“ **And, of course, all they have to do is point out the information came from a vigilante to explain why they didn’t take it seriously,** ” Green Arrow growled out. “ **Keep me updated on that bus driver issue. Green Arrow, out.** ” Green Arrow cut the comms and continued on his way. It was a long way from the Glades to Berlanti Preparatory.

Almost twenty minutes later, Fyff was back on the comms. “Shit, G.A., we got a problem,” Fyff said. “That bus driver owes money to the Russians and they’re calling in their marker. He’s gonna deliver those kids to the Russians.”

“ **Damn it,** ” Green Arrow bit out and accelerated. He was only a few minutes away from the school now. “ **Where’s the bus now?** ”

“It’s already pulled away from the school,” Fyff said soberly. “I’m tracking the G.P.S.”

“ **Where is it now?** ”

“Heading down Percy Avenue,” Fyff replied. Green Arrow diverted his motorcycle onto the street with the most direct route to Percy Avenue, ignoring the annoyed honks and shouted expletives from motorists. Getting to that bus and stopping those kids from becoming pawns in Anatoli’s war with Frank Bertinelli was the important thing, not a few pissed off car drivers. “Still on Percy Avenue, should’ve turned off onto 112th,” Fyff reported. “I’m trying to burrow my way into one of the kids’ phones, just in case we need to track them. Hard to do that while the target is on the move, though.”

“ **We’re not going to have to track them down,** ” Green Arrow snarled, unwilling to accept the possibility that he wouldn’t get there in time. The very idea he could fail, that Anatoli’s men would get their hands on those kids, sent a thrill of panic through him which he cracked down hard on. _I will not lose my focus, or those kids,_ he told himself violently.

“Bus is turning off into what looks like a meat-packing plant,” Fyff said. “Checking ownership records…” A tense minute of silence followed. “Russian-owned. Probably calling in favors with our local Russian community.”

“ **How far out am I?** ” Green Arrow asked.

“You’re still ten minutes away, boss,” Fyff said. “Even at top speed, they might be gone before you get there. I’ve managed to get into the phone of one of the kids, though, since they’re in one place for longer than a minute. Uploaded some malware onto an app kids like to use when they’re bored and had to hope for the best. We’ll be able to track them, boss.”

“ **Good,** ” Green Arrow said wearily. _Damn it,_ he thought to himself, his mind going to how frightened those children must be. _Damn you, Anatoli! Damn you!_

Five minutes later, Fyff was back on the line. “G.A., one of those refrigerated trucks just pulled out of the meat-packing plant, and the signal from the kid’s phone is onboard.”

“ **They couldn’t fit all the children from that bus onto one refrigerated truck,** ” Green Arrow said softly. “ **Run a heat signature scan of the building.** ”

“On it,” Fyff said. A minute later he said, “Looks like about five adults standing guard over nearly twenty others in one section of the plant. Probably armed with automatics. What’s the plan?”

“ **Keep tracking the truck, and I’ll pick up the trail,** ” Green Arrow replied. He couldn’t leave any child in danger; not after he had put his own child in danger in the previous timeline by putting himself into William’s life. “ **Give me directions to the meat-packing plant.** ”

“Sending the details to your bike’s G.P.S. now, boss,” Fyff replied. Green Arrow followed the coordinates, cutting the engine and coasting to a stop outside of the meat-packing plant. He dismounted, examining the building for an entry point. He fired a grappling arrow to take him to the roof. He found an open skylight that looked down at the factory floor. He dropped down onto a catwalk inside and began creeping around, searching for where the children were being held. The workers for the meat-packing plant were fidgety, nervous; he could tell by how they were extra-careful when cutting meat into strips to package, their hands shaking slightly. They knew they were being party to something fundamentally wrong.

Green Arrow found that one section of the production floor had been sectioned off, and this was where the Bratva were holding twenty of the students. Green Arrow observed the scene for a moment. A few of the older students, those around fourteen or fifteen, were keeping the younger ones close to them. A couple of boys of about sixteen were eying the closest Russian with looks that made Green Arrow uneasy. He remembered all too well how _volatile_ teenage boys can be, especially under pressure. Green Arrow calculated his moves quickly. There were five Bratva soldiers guarding the students, but he doubted these five were the only Bratva in the entire facility. They would want to keep the students contained, and there was every chance a few would slip passed the five guards. Green Arrow would have to lead the students out of the plant himself.

“G.A., the refrigerated truck is heading for the Glades,” Fyff said in low tones, as though he were right there and trying to keep the Russians from overhearing.

“ **Understood,** ” Green Arrow breathed out. He nocked a magnetic arrow and fired it into the ground off to the side of the Bratva. The arrow activated, stripping the Bratva of their assault rifles. Green Arrow dropped down from the ceiling and delivered quick, brutal strikes to the face of one of the Bratva, then tossed him aside with a sneered, “ **Pathetic.** ” He turned his attention to the remaining four. “ **You know who I am,** ” he said quietly. “ **You know what I can do to you. You have _one chance_ to leave peacefully.**”

“ _We will not, Hood!_ ” One Russian spat in his mother tongue and launched himself at Green Arrow. Green Arrow delivered a punch to his throat, causing him to gag, then a series of quick, hard-hitting blows to his ribs before a final left hook to the jaw. The man collapsed, and Green Arrow pinned him to the ground with a bolo arrow. He tilted his head at the remaining three consideringly. The three men attacked as one, intending to take Green Arrow down with overwhelming force. Green Arrow dodged a tackle from one man and tripped him up, sending him to fall flat on his face, delivered a knife-hand strike to the throat of the man coming at him from the left and then followed it up with a bow-cut, sending him sprawling backwards. Green Arrow turned and blocked the attempt to strike the back of his head with a length of pipe via his bow, holding the improvised weapon up and away from him. He jutted his head forward, hearing the crack as the man’s nose broke, and then again.

The Russian proved to be adept at dealing with head injuries, however, and Green Arrow had to back away slightly as the Russian freed his weapon from the intersecting with Green Arrow’s bow and came at him again, this time swinging from the side. Green Arrow blocked with his bow again and delivered a straight kick to the Russian’s stomach, aware that the other two Russians were recovering from his attacks. Green Arrow knew he didn’t have a choice. These guys were tougher than your run of the mill thugs; Anatoli had known he wouldn’t be able to leave the kids in danger and had assigned some of his best men to provide a window of escape for the refrigerated truck. Green Arrow pulled one of his basic arrows from his quiver and then stabbed the Russian in the heart with it. The Russian grunted, blood bubbling up in his mouth, and stared at Green Arrow in surprised bewilderment before collapsing backward, the arrow still in Green Arrow’s hand, dripping with blood. **_*2*_**

Green Arrow didn’t let himself think as he moved to the Russian that was staggering to his feet. He struck with his arrow like a dagger, cutting into the man’s carotid artery and then ripping the arrow out again. The man’s hands went to his neck, blood trickling between the cracks of his fingers at a rapid rate as he collapsed to his knees, the kids shying away from him and the blood seeping from both him and the other Russian. Green Arrow turned his attention to the last man, who turned and tried to flee. Green Arrow knocked the arrow and loosed it, the arrow flying straight and true and landing on target in the man’s skull. He collapsed, body shuddering. Green Arrow closed his eyes for a moment before he turned to face the students. “ **It’s alright,** ” he said softly. “ **You’re safe now. I can lead you out. But I need you to trust me. Can you do that?** ” The students all looked at one another before nodding slowly, silently. “ **Alright,** ” Green Arrow said. “ **Let’s go.** ”

Green Arrow led the way through the meat-packing plant, the workers stepping away from where they were working and watching the procession in silent fear. They knew what the Bratva were capable of, and yet one man had come in and taken out five of them. Who was the Green Arrow? That was the thought that was percolating in the minds of the workers as the vigilante led the students out of the meat-packing plant and onto the sidewalk. Green Arrow moved out into the road, stopping a four-door car in it’s path. The driver exited the car. “What’s the big idea?” he demanded to know. “I could’ve hit you!”

“ **These kids need help,** ” Green Arrow replied, gesturing to the students. The driver looked at the kids and his eyes widened at their frightened, huddled appearance. “ **They were kidnapped by the Bratva and held in this meat-packing plant. I need someone to stay with them until the cops arrive. Some of their friends were taken from here. I have to go after the rest of the kidnappers. Can I trust you to be here for them?** ”

“Y-Yeah,” the man stuttered out. He had watched the vigilante’s speech on T.V., heard about his actions over the past four weeks and especially in the last couple of days. “I can do that for you, man. Go on. Help those kids. I’ll keep these ones safe. You got my word.” The man added to this by reaching into his glove compartment and pulling out a pistol. “Anyone tries to take these kids gets a bullet,” the man promised.

“ **Thank you,** ” Green Arrow said and mounted his bike. He peeled away from the curb. “ **Where’s the truck now?** ” he demanded to know.

“Ah, it’s in the Glades, but there’s something wrong with the signal on the phone, it keeps dropping,” Fyff said. “Best I can do is narrow it down to the industrial district.”

Green Arrow’s eyes narrowed. “ **Around Schmidt and 11 th?**” he asked quietly.

“Yeah,” Fyff said, surprised. “How did you know?”

“ **Because that’s where the steel factory is,** ” Green Arrow said. “ **Knyasev is trying to make this personal.** ”

“Way you’re sounding, he’s succeeded,” Fyff said. Green Arrow said nothing but diverted his bike’s course back in the direction of the Glades. Anatoli had made a mistake in choosing the steel factory as the place where he would hold the kids of the Bertinelli soldiers and lieutenants. He had given Green Arrow the homefield advantage, and the vigilante wasn’t going to waste it.

**_*DC*_ **

Green Arrow crouched on a beam above the ground floor of the steel factory. There were ten students huddled together, guarded by ten men, all with automatic assault rifles. If these men were anything like the ones at the meat-packing plant, then Green Arrow wouldn’t be able to hold back. He would have to strike, fast, hard, and deadly in order to save the students. He took note of the positions of the Russians. There were two each guarding the ‘four sides’ of where the students were being held and two roaming guards. The roaming guards were wild cards that needed to be taken out of the equation, but he wasn’t in a position where he could strike both. He would need to move locations until he could. Green Arrow crept along the rafters of the steel mill, the grace and balance he had learned from both Talia and Ra’s coming in handy here.

Green Arrow reached a point where he could strike both roaming guards, but it was somewhere that he would have no cover. He would have to strike and then race along the rafters to find cover while the rest of the Bratva searched for him. After that, he would have to strike quickly to deal with them before they turned their weapons on the students. Green Arrow nocked and fired a basic arrow at one guard, then the other, striking them both in the ribs. They collapsed, gripping the shaft of the arrow as Green Arrow moved to a location with more cover. Green Arrow watched as the two guards each moved to check on the fallen men and grinned viciously. They were setting themselves up so nicely, and he wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Green Arrow fired off a pair of explosive arrows at both groups, which detonated and sent the men sprawling to the ground, wailing, with second- and third-degree burns on their legs and forearms. Green Arrow fired a sleeping gas arrow in between two more guards as he raced along the rafters and it detonated, enveloping the two Bratva soldiers in a cloud of sleeping gas. They coughed and staggered before falling to the ground. That left two guards remaining, and Green Arrow dropped down, delivering a strike with his bow to the backs of their heads before they knew he was behind them. The men stiffened but did not fall. Green Arrow threw a magnetic arrow onto the ground since he didn’t have the distance to shoot, and their weapons were stripped from them even as they turned to face him.

Green Arrow leaped forward, delivering quick, decisive blows to the torso of one man before catching him in a reverse headlock that he used as leverage to break the man’s neck. Green Arrow turned and fired a sleeping gas arrow into the chest of the other man. The gas released and enveloped the man’s head in a cloud of gas. Green Arrow watched as the man collapsed, the arrow still sticking out of his chest. It wasn’t buried deep; none of Oliver’s trick arrows were sharpened to deadly points, just sharp enough to stick in the ground or people’s flesh as needed.

Green Arrow turned to the kids, all of whom had parents in the Bertinelli crime family. He knelt down so he was at their eye level. “ **It’s alright, you’re safe, and we’ll get you to your parents,** ” Green Arrow said softly. He activated his comms. “ **Contact Trimble, let him know where the other kids are. I’m going to stay close by, make sure they get home safe.** ”

“Got it, boss,” Fyff said.

**_*DC*_ **

Oliver set his bow on its stand, slinging his quiver from around his torso and setting it down. “Anything else from the Bratva or Bertinellis, Henry?” Oliver asked, trying not to let the heaviness of his eyes get to him. He had been up for over twenty-four hours with only a few ‘power naps’ while waiting for the next move by the Russian or Italian mobs.

“No, boss,” Fyff said.

“Why do you call me that?” Oliver asked. “It’s always ‘boss’ or ‘G.A.’. You can use my name when we’re here, Henry. It’s only over the comms you need to be careful.”

“Just doesn’t seem right, calling you by your name,” Fyff replied with a shrug. “And I’m kinda used to calling the shot-caller boss. Just it’s usually been Waller or one of her underlings. You’re not exactly like them, but she did loan me out to you, so…” he trailed off leadingly.

“I see,” Oliver said. “Keep an eye on things. I’m going to try and get some sleep. Remember, wake me from a distance if something happens.”

“Will do,” Fyff replied, and Oliver went to the cot, laying down and closing his eyes, only to fall into nightmares about an exploding island and a sneering villain holding his son in a headlock, ready to break the boy’s neck at a moment’s notice.

**_*DC*_ **

SAC Darius Trimble watched the reunion between the families with a small smile on his face. These types of moments made being an F.B.I. agent worth it. He knew many of these people were on the payroll of Frank Bertinelli as enforcers and the like, but at their heart they were also parents who deeply loved their children and were happy to see them safe. The only thing that troubled Trimble was that this moment had not come about because of a joint effort between the F.B.I. and the S.C.P.D., but because of the intervention of a vigilante. A vigilante that had been interfering in the affairs of the Bratva and Bertinellis alike and was unlikely to stop until this mob war was done.

A war that the S.C.P.D. was content to ignore. They had decided that the word of the vigilante wasn’t good enough and hadn’t even sent a squad car to provide security at Berlanti Preparatory in case the Bratva took the direct approach. They had allayed the fears of security officers at Berlanti Prep, telling them it was a prank call and not to worry. What disgusted Trimble was that, for all intents and purposes, they were in the right to have ignored it since the tip came from a criminal, and there was every chance that he had been lying. But now the S.C.P.D. was going to get a black eye, because the Green Arrow had been acting very openly in the past twenty-four hours, enough to make one hell of a story for the nightly news. Trimble could already see the way this was going to play out. The S.C.P.D. were going to walk away from this with a black eye and a reputation for being unwilling to act because of the potential the source was wrong, while Green Arrow was going to continue to catapult into cult status as far as his reputation went.

The tip-off that Green Arrow had given Trimble about the construction site attack, which he had acted on with his agents, had played out exactly as the vigilante had said. Bratva soldiers had tried to attack the site, but the F.B.I. had been ready for them and beaten them back. Trimble kept his phone ready at all times, knowing the Green Arrow may call him at any time with more news about the Bratva-Bertinelli war and how it was going to effect the citizens. What bothered Trimble was that he was _okay_ with working with the vigilante; he should be doing this as a ploy to get the vigilante to trust him, so he could bring him in without violence, but in truth he was doing it because he felt it was the _right_ thing to do.

What was happening? When did vigilantes become the ones who were doing the right thing while the police stood by and did nothing? Trimble was very troubled by the lack of action on the part of the S.C.P.D. and was preparing a report for his superiors to suggest they look closely at the S.C.P.D. He didn’t believe Green Arrow’s assertion that someone had cut a deal between organized crime and the S.C.P.D. Conspiracy or not, _no one_ had that much power in the criminal underworld. It couldn’t be possible, and Trimble had to believe that. Because if it was true, then it was entirely possible that the future of fighting crime lay not in the hands of law enforcement, but in the hands of vigilantes like Green Arrow. And that idea was like a poison in the veins, something that Trimble just _couldn’t_ accept, no matter how willing he was to accept the _aid_ of a vigilante. **_*3*_**

**_*DC*_ **

Anatoli Knyasev stood on the rooftop of the garage that the Bratva in Starling was headquartered out of, two bodyguards keeping an eye on the street in case the Bertinellis made a try for their boss and Alexi Leonov standing nearby. Anatoli was digesting the reports that he had received over the past fifteen hours since his arrival in Starling City. Now they were constantly on the watch, wondering if and where the Green Arrow would strike at their holdings. There was a sense of nervousness in the air, for Green Arrow had killed several of their men this afternoon in retaliation for their kidnapping the children of Bertinelli soldiers and lieutenants.

It was hard, knowing that he and the man he had called brother and fought alongside only a few short weeks ago were now enemies. But something had changed in Oliver, something different than the sickness that had invaded his mind in Russia, where he had believed that a piece of cloth could separate his two identities. Now he went out of his way to avoid dealing death, as though he feared slipping into the monster he had become. On the one hand, Anatoli was happy about this, because it meant that the honorable man that he remembered from Lian Yu still existed in his friend and that the monster who was more like Anthony Ivo or Slade Wilson wasn’t in full control.

But with this aversion to dealing death came a sense of self-righteousness, a way of looking down on his brothers that angered Anatoli, because Oliver Queen was no better than he or any other member of the Bratva. He had gone through the entire initiation process. He had killed for them. For him to turn on his brothers and set himself above them, looking down on them as though he were superior to them, it galled Anatoli and he understood Alexi’s disgust with Oliver now, if this was what Oliver had been doing the entire time he had been back in Starling City.

Perhaps his plans to improve Bratva were foolish, especially without a strong ally such as Oliver to aid in that regard. If so, then he would have to prove he was worthy of his title by punishing those who betrayed him, ensuring justice was had for the man they had lost in this city to the hands of Helena Bertinelli, and ensure that Oliver Queen knew that he could be reached, no matter how long it took to achieve that goal. If he had to delve into the practices that he had promised to take the Bratva away from, so be it. **_*4*_**

He had set the brothers in Metropolis to watch those Oliver cared for there, find any weaknesses they could exploit, gaps in their defenses. Once they knew where and when to strike, they could choose who would be used as leverage to bring Oliver Queen to heel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter.
> 
> Chapter Notes:
> 
> *1* For those thinking this might be extreme, I point towards Season 1 of “Gotham” and how much the Falcones and Maronis controlled things, to the point the cops had to ask permission to do things and seek out counsel from the likes of Fish Mooney.
> 
> *2* As some readers expected, Oliver is going to have to begin dropping bodies to end the conflict.
> 
> *3* Trimble is essentially a career man, so for someone to come along and seemingly make his choice of career obsolete is something that he just has a hard time accepting.
> 
> *4* I wanted to take a moment to examine why Anatoli is doing what he’s doing, since even in Season 6 he was an honorable man. His position within the Bratva is still too new to risk weakness, and so he has to be what the Bratva expect of the Pakhan. That means abandoning his principles and ordering things he finds distasteful.


	39. Perspectives II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Alright, I am back! A week’s break from this story while I did other things was *exactly* what was needed. I would like to especially thank Nyame and Phillipe363 for their advice over the past week, which helped me avoid a really dumb move with this story.
> 
> So, I’ve heard the news about Batwoman. I’m gonna be honest. I think this is a huge mistake on their part and I’m not gonna watch Season 2. What made Batwoman interesting was the connections Kate Kane had to everything. Some Random Jane just won’t have the impact. Shoving an OC into the Batsuit doesn’t make them Batwoman, just like shoving Mia Smoak into a hood doesn’t make her Green Arrow.
> 
> As a result, I’m gonna be cherry-picking stuff from Batwoman for this. Which is to say I’m ignoring most of it. Namely stuff like Lucius Fox dying and why Batman left Gotham.

Laurel and Sara Lance were in the former’s hotel room, handling slices of pizza from the local Domino’s that they had ordered as they used Laurel’s laptop to tune into Channel 52 news since they couldn’t get it via the hotel room’s T.V. The opening jingle for the news hour emanated from the laptop and then Susan Williams was on the screen. “Tonight’s top story, Green Arrow and what appears to be nothing short of a mob war spilling out onto our streets,” Susan said, and despite already knowing what was happening in Starling, Laurel and Sara both felt uneasy, knowing that their boyfriend and friend, respectively, was in the middle of it all. “It all began this morning with an attempt by what appears to be the Bratva to abduct Helena Bertinelli from the F.B.I. transport taking her to the courthouse for arraignment. Miss Bertinelli stands accused of killing a Russian man who may or may not have had ties to the Russian mob.

“Green Arrow arrived on the scene mere moments after the F.B.I. transport found itself trapped and had a terse exchange with who our sources have now confirmed is Anatoli Knyasev, the new Pakhan of the Russian Bratva. Our sources within both the Starling City Police Department and the F.B.I. indicate that law enforcement have no idea why Knyasev is taking such a keen interest in this situation. Green Arrow effected an escape route for the F.B.I. transport and stayed perched on the roof during the ensuing chase, protecting the transport from the Bratva and protecting civilians from crossfire from the Italian mafia.” Video footage from a cell phone camera was shown and excited exclamations from the owner of the cell phone were bleeped out as Green Arrow overturned an SUV with what appeared to be a flashbang arrow fired through the SUV’s windshield.

“Jesus,” Sara breathed. It was one thing to _imagine_ what Oliver was doing, a whole different thing to _see_ it. And… “What the hell is he wearing?”

“He said he got an upgrade for his suit,” Laurel said faintly.

Susan Williams was back on the screen. “Green Arrow surfaced again in a series of daytime appearances, taking on what appeared to be Italian mafiosos attacking various buildings owned or operated by Russian-born citizens. In each case, Green Arrow disabled the mafia and left them unable to continue their attack before leaving them to be either picked up by the S.C.P.D. or dealt with by the Bratva. In one case, the Italian mobsters were found dead on the scene, having been killed by automatic gunfire. While Green Arrow appears to intervene when innocents are at risk, he clearly has no quarrel with mobsters killing mobsters.”

“Who does?” Sara quipped. “Trash taking out the trash.” Laurel shushed her sister, wanting to hear the entire report.

“But the most troubling report of the day comes from an attempt by Green Arrow to warn both Berlanti Preparatory and the Starling City Police Department of a threat to some of their students by the Russian Bratva. We have obtained exclusive testimony from Berlanti Prep’s Head of Security, Marcus Weller, that they received a warning from the Green Arrow and when they sought the counsel of the S.C.P.D., they were assured that this was a prank. But the threat, it turns out, was very real,” Susan said, a grim expression on her face. “Gerald Vance, 45, has been a bus driver with Berlanti Preparatory for twenty years. He was also deeply in debt to Russian loan sharks and affected a mass kidnapping of Berlanti Prep students, who were then separated.

“We can now confirm that the students separated were children of men with strong ties to the Bertinelli family, which is rumored to be a front for the Italian mob in Starling City. Green Arrow tracked down both groups of students, through means currently unknown, and saved the lives of both groups at the expense of the lives of the Bratva soldiers guarding them. The students not connected to the Bertinelli family were held at a Russian-owned meat-packing plant that is now under investigation, while those connected to the Bertinelli family were held at the abandoned Queen steel factory, which Queen Consolidated C.E.O. Oliver Queen has promised to re-open. This is not the first time the property has been used for illicit activities. A request for a statement from Queen Consolidated was met with a response of ‘no comment’.”

“Yeah, Ollie’s a little too busy fighting Russians and Italians to make a comment,” Sara said, trying to lighten the mood. It didn’t quite work.

“At the same time the abduction was taking place, an attack was made against the most recent site under the umbrella of Bertinelli Construction, which was thwarted by the F.B.I., led by Special Agent in Charge Darius Trimble, head of the task force looking into the events surrounding the recent discovery of the remains of the _Queen’s Gambit_ , the suicide of Moira Queen, and the murder of Walter Steele, former C.E.O. of Queen Consolidated. Agent Trimble had this to say.”

Trimble appeared on the screen, still in a bulletproof vest at the site of the attack. “We received an anonymous tip that the most recent construction site of Bertinelli Construction would be attacked and acted accordingly,” Trimble said.

“Any comment as to whether this tip-off came from the Green Arrow, Agent Trimble?” a reporter asked.

“No comment,” Trimble replied before the image on the screen shifted back to Susan Williams in the news studio.

“The picture today’s events have painted is an ugly one, in which the police force that is meant to protect our citizens will not act on intelligence provided by the Green Arrow, who has proven time and again that he aims to protect the people victimized by the powerful and corrupt,” Susan said, staring directly ahead. “Green Arrow’s willingness to throw himself into battle against the Russian and Italian mobs while the S.C.P.D. stands by and does nothing is a chilling commentary on the state of our city. Now all we can do is wait and see how this mob war unfolds, and who will stand for the citizens of Starling City in the midst of this chaos.”

The news broke for a commercial break, and Laurel closed down the Internet window they had been using to watch the news. The Lance sisters sat in silence, simply absorbing what was going on back home and both worrying for not only Oliver, but for their father, who was likely to be chomping at the bit to go after the bad guys and not liking the praise Green Arrow was getting, however deserved it was.

**_*DC*_ **

Darius Trimble laid back on the bed of his hotel room, closing his eyes for a moment and just trying to unwind from what had become one of the most trying days of his life. It had started simple enough, a basic prisoner transfer to the courthouse for arraignment. But then it had gone to hell when their S.C.P.D. escort had abandoned them to their fate and their defense had been left in the hands of a vigilante. The chase through the streets of Starling City, the vigilante perched on the roof of their SUV and defending them from the Bratva, was burned into Trimble’s memory, and he had every intention of getting on the horn with his superiors tomorrow and informing them of the clear-cut case of corruption within the S.C.P.D.

Nudocerdo had refused to see him the entire day, citing schedule issues, but Trimble knew the truth. Nudocerdo had no desire to punish the officers who had abandoned the federal transport vehicle to the Bratva and if he took a meeting with Trimble, he would be forced to. Which meant even the Commissioner was on the take, or at least that he didn’t care about how things were down in the trenches so long as the numbers didn’t rise in a bad way. Though how he expected to get out of this mess now that Susan Williams’ report had aired without coming down off the fence, Trimble didn’t know.

Williams’ report had been a classic condemnation of the corruption within the S.C.P.D. and planted the seeds of distrust of the S.C.P.D. and trust in the Green Arrow in the hearts of those watching. Williams was a supporter of the Green Arrow’s agenda, that was clear now, which made sense. Williams’ career had been built on character assassinations of the powerful and propping up the common citizen, goals that the Green Arrow seemed to share. Combine that with his apparent alliance with Dinah Laurel Lance, the head of the City Necessary Resources Initiative, and it was easy to see that things were changing in Starling City, and the change wasn’t going to be good for the likes of Brian Nudocerdo.

Trimble thought back to what he had been thinking when watching the children of Bertinelli’s soldiers and lieutenants reunite with their families. Things were changing rapidly, and Green Arrow was at the center of this oncoming storm. The question, though, was _who_ was backing him? That new suit he had wasn’t something you could pick up at your average Army surplus store and he seemed to know about things happening in Starling City long before the local law enforcement. Trimble had a nasty suspicion that Green Arrow was no vigilante, but an intelligence asset operating on American soil for nefarious purposes. He had heard of black budget groups that wanted to recruit ‘special people’ for missions that fell outside of the norm. There had been an organization early in his career, Checkmate, that had had such a goal, but they had vanished. Still, where there was one, there had to be others, and Trimble had the sneaking suspicion that Green Arrow was a Trojan Horse for such a group, an example to point to.

The worst part of it was that if he was right, then there was nothing that could be done. While the C.I.A. was restricted from operating on American soil, everyone knew that they did, and there were even deeper covert intelligence branches of the government that had no such restrictions. This was one giant clusterfuck in the making, and it was like watching an oncoming train wreck, knowing he could do nothing but still unable to look away from it all.

Trimble sighed. All he could do was make his reports to his superiors and let them decide what to do about Starling City. If, as Trimble suspected, Green Arrow was in fact an intelligence operative, than it was likely the task force would be finding itself rolled up soon and shipped to other places to keep them from continuing to dig into Starling City and it’s rotten underbelly.

**_*DC*_ **

Roy Harper checked the locks on his doors again, just to be safe, before returning to the front room and lounging back on his couch. He had seen enough going on today to know that the report from the local news channel was real; there was a mob war going on. Roy was almost fully-recovered from the beating he had received a few weeks back, and in that time his mind had been caught up in thinking about one thing: Green Arrow. Who was he? Who was the man under the hood who risked his life to save people from rapists, who risked his life to expose deep-seated corruption, who was even now risking his life as a one-man line of defense against the Bratva and Bertinellis?

Roy had lived in the Glades his entire life, had suffered under the conditions that had been forced upon the people here, and knew that there was something rotten going on in Starling City. But he had known he couldn’t fight whatever or whoever was controlling everything. So he did what he could, going after grocers who jacked up their prices when people were in desperate need, gang-bangers who were aiming to rape women and girls who strayed too far from the safer streets, and in general making a nuisance of himself for the people who saw nothing wrong with stepping on the throats of people like him and his friends.

But now he knew that one man _could_ make a difference. One man was doing what Roy had thought impossible and was bringing hope to the Glades again. People were smiling more, hopeful for a brighter tomorrow as scumbag after scumbag was taken down by the Green Arrow. Even now, with a mob war breaking out on the streets of Starling City, Roy knew others were feeling the same hope he did, because they knew that Green Arrow was fighting for them. For a long time, Roy had seen hope as a kind of poison because it was always deceptive, but now he could see a light on the horizon, and it was all because of one man. Roy had been saved by Green Arrow himself, and he wanted to find the man, thank him for what he had done. If only he knew where to find him…

That’s when an idea hit Roy. It might not always be accurate, but there was a chance listening to the police band would let him find out where Green Arrow was at a given time, or at least where he had been. Maybe from there he could figure out where Green Arrow’s hideout was. It had to be in the Glades, considering how frequently he was spotted here. But how to get ahold of a police radio?

**_*DC*_ **

Malcolm Merlyn stood looking out at the city, his attention drawn to the buzzing phone in his hand. This was the encrypted cell phone that he used for his Tempest dealings, complete with an attached voice modulator that kept people from discovering his identity. Finally, knowing he had best get this over with, he slid the green icon up and hit the speaker button. “Commissioner,” he greeted.

“I’ve played by your rules, but this is getting out of hand,” Nudocerdo said on the other end of the line. “The F.B.I. are seriously pissed about what happened with the Bertinelli bitch and I’ve had to dodge Trimble the entire day. He’s gonna want to know why the S.C.P.D. isn’t acting with an obvious mob war going on. I know you don’t want us getting involved, but this has gone beyond the Glades. We need to act or we’re all gonna be facing a federal investigation, and that’s even without the mayor up my ass about the fact a vigilante is doing more than the police department.”

Malcolm was silent as he considered Nudocerdo’s words. On the one hand, a mob war was typically scum killing scum, and so far, the targets from the Bertinelli side of things had been nothing but places where the Bratva manufactured drugs and the like. But the Bratva had escalated the situation by kidnapping students from Berlanti Prep. Actual innocents were now being caught in the middle of this, and as a result, the Green Arrow’s star was rising, giving hope to those who had stood by and watched as Daniel Brickwell murdered Rebecca. That, at least, had to be stopped, and it appeared that there was only one way to do that. “You have permission to unshackle your department for this one instance only, Commissioner,” Malcolm said. “Once the mob war concludes, it’s back to business as usual.”

“Understood,” Nudocerdo said, and hung up. Malcolm continued to look out at the city, satisfied that with the S.C.P.D. unshackled and ‘proving’ they were not corrupt by ending the Bratva-Bertinelli conflict, the legend of the Green Arrow would soon die the ignominious death it deserved. **_*1*_**

**_*DC*_ **

Barry Allen was laying down in bed, thoughts about the past twenty-four hours percolating in his head. Twenty hours ago, he had been working late, familiarizing himself with the archives of Applied Sciences and finding out if anyone had come up with ideas he could base his own research off of if and when he got the chance to do his own research projects, when his boss and the man who recruited him, Oliver Queen, showed up. He knew that technically Doug Miller was his ‘boss’, but he had no respect for the man, and it was clear Mr. Queen- _Oliver_ didn’t have much respect for Miller either with how he talked about recruiting a new head of Applied Sciences. Then his boss had shown an interest in a defunct military project that had been deemed unviable, only for them to be cornered by three _Mafia hitmen_ , who insisted his boss was tied to the Bratva. His boss had pulled a gun of his own before setting it aside, and when they were in close to the hitmen, had taken them all out with a few sharp blows and the use of one of the hitmen’s own Uzis.

Oliver and he had taken the RQ-1141 Tactical Hardsuit to Oliver’s car and then Oliver had told him to go home, that everything would be cleaned up by the time he got in in the morning. And it had been. There had been no sign of the confrontation with the hitmen when Barry had come in this morning. Oliver had said he was working with a government agency, and it was probably a black budget group with how quick and efficient they were. But the thing that really kept coming back to Barry was the revelation that he had had, that his boss, the man who recruited him, was Starling City’s resident vigilante, Green Arrow. Barry had heard rumors about the Batman for years and there were tall tales about some woman from World War I that Barry had tried to chase down leads on, but Green Arrow was more than a rumor or myth. He had delivered a debut speech via the city’s emergency broadcast system, a speech that had found its way to YouTube.

And now he was using something from Applied Sciences in his fight against the Bratva and the Bertinellis, trying to keep a mob war from causing too many casualties. Barry had seen the news clips of Green Arrow fighting off the Bratva while perched atop a government SUV, and then other recordings had popped up on YouTube showing Green Arrow’s recent battles with the Bertinelli crime family. It was weird seeing that suit that had been gathering dust in action, and Barry found himself disgusted that the government hadn’t been willing to shell out the money for the suit. It would have saved so many soldiers’ lives, he thought. Then again, there hadn’t been any field tests of the suit; Walter Steele had prohibited such testing, despite Dr. Briggs’ assertions that he needed to know what worked and what didn’t in order to maximize efficiency. Briefly, Barry mused over whether Briggs was keeping up with the news in Starling and if he had recognized his work being used in quelling a mob war.

Barry’s father, Henry, had expressed some concern with him going into work while a mob war was raging in the streets, but Barry had convinced him that he was safe. While Oliver was not in the office, he had beefed up security, so Queen Consolidated was quite safe. But Barry wondered if his boss had it in him to see this conflict through; he was trying to be everywhere at once and that had to be wearing on him. Could Oliver handle the pressure of having to keep constantly alert, day or night, while the mob war raged? How was he making sure he was in peak condition while this was all going on? Was he just drinking lots of coffee or was he taking power naps in wherever he hid out in between public appearances? Would he continue to use the RQ-1141 after the mob war was over, or would he return to his usual outfit?

One thing Barry knew for certain was that he was gonna have a _lot_ of questions for his boss once all of this was over.

**_*DC*_ **

Frank Bertinelli threw his glass of wine into the fire in a fit of rage. Throughout the day, every attempt to strike at the Bratva had been thwarted by the Green Arrow. The only thing that salved that wound was that Green Arrow was being equally obstructive for the Bratva, and Frank had to admit to having a debt to the vigilante for saving the children of his soldiers and lieutenants. If the Bratva had maintained a hold on those children, their position here would’ve been untenable and Helena would probably now be in the hands of the Bratva, undergoing the very fate Oliver Queen had described as being the ‘old way’ of doing things for the Bratva. It appeared Queen had been misinformed, since the Bratva were taking direction from their Pakhan and he clearly was not as squeamish as Queen had appeared to be.

Speaking of Helena, Frank had talked with his daughter and discovered that someone had told her the Bratva, and specifically Danakov, had murdered her fiancé. Frank was going to find whoever did this and deal with them himself, because they had caused him a lot of trouble.

“That’s a waste of good wine,” said the bald-headed man standing off to the side, Desert Eagles strapped in holsters attached to the vest he wore beneath his suit coat. Victor Zsasz had been sent by Don Carmine Falcone of Gotham to oversee the men he was loaning out to Frank, which came with the requirement that Frank help him establish roots in Starling City. Apparently, the Batman had been harrying the Falcone family’s holdings more than usual since most of the mentally ill people he fought were currently locked away in Arkham and he could keep his attention on the organized crime in Gotham. **_*2*_**

“It’s not the best I have in stock,” Frank said with a scoff. “Thank you for coming to help with this, Victor. I know things are tense in Gotham.”

“Don Falcone always has time to help his friends,” Zsasz said. “But today’s interventions by Green Arrow tell us a few things. He has a code, like Batman, but he’s willing to break it when necessary. And the circumstances under which he broke it are most telling.”

“What do you mean, Victor?” Frank asked.

“He broke his code when children were in danger,” Zsasz responded. “Whoever he is under that hood, Green Arrow is a _father_. If we can find who he is under that hood, we find out the leverage we can exploit.”

Frank smiled. “An excellent observation, Victor, but Green Arrow isn’t the only problem,” he said. “What about the Bratva?”

“You know where they’re headquartered,” Zsasz replied. “Cut the head off the snake.”

“They have an entrenched position,” Frank said.

“Leave it to me and my boys,” Zsasz said. “We’ll make short work of the Russians. Who knows, maybe with the Russians dead, Green Arrow will stop harassing you, as well. He didn’t seem to care about the attack on the weapons depot.”

“No, he didn’t,” Frank said, scowling at the thought of the losses they sustained there. If it weren’t for Victor and his men, he would be severely underhanded right now, leaving the Russians in a superior position. “I’m not sure what that means. It could be he simply didn’t care because those he deems innocents weren’t involved, or perhaps he was too distracted with the other two attacks to care about our ability to defend ourselves being crippled.” Frank turned to face Zsasz. “We need a win, Victor, and badly. The Bratva blackened our eye today by taking the children, even if Green Arrow stopped them from doing anything more than frightening them. We need to do something to hit the Bratva back.”

“I need to know more about the local Bratva before I can do anything,” Zsasz said.

“There might be one weakness that we can exploit,” Frank said. “Oliver Queen isn’t just the C.E.O. of Queen Consolidated. He’s the head of the Starling City chapter of the Bratva. While Knyasev is in town, he’s in charge, but he put Queen into this position personally, which means Queen means something to him. We hurt Queen, we hurt Knyasev. Unfortunately, all of the people Queen cares about have vanished. We need to find them.”

“We will,” Zsasz said. “In the meantime, is there anywhere Queen might go that we could hit him at?”

“He’s already been to Queen Consolidated once, and my men who were watching it disappeared,” Frank said. “There’s also his family mansion.”

“Thank you, Don Bertinelli,” Zsasz said. “This will all be quite useful.” **_*3*_**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter.
> 
> Chapter Notes:
> 
> *1* Malcolm’s hand was forced since he doesn’t want a federal investigation into the actions of the S.C.P.D., as that will provide proof of what’s been happening for five years. As to his little thing about Green Arrow’s ‘legend’… Well, we all have our delusions. Malcolm’s are just more grandiose.
> 
> *2* Yes, I’m picturing the one from “Gotham”, even though the actor played the poison gas dude on “The Flash”. And my, my, Batman is going after the mafia in Gotham while Green Arrow does it in Starling? Now isn’t that *interesting*…
> 
> *3* So, now both the Bratva and Bertinellis are looking to find Oliver’s friends and family and use them against him, though with the Bertinellis they believe they’ll also be hurting Knyasev by hurting Oliver. And I’m pretty sure Frank is the head of the family, so that should make him the Don if I remember my Italian mafia ranks right. Another thing that “Arrow” didn’t quite get right.


	40. Leverage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Random factoid – turns out watching music videos centered around pairings helps me wire my brain to write stories with those pairings. Who’d have thought?

Oliver sat up on the cot, yawning and stretching. “How long was I out and has anything happened anywhere in the city?” he asked, startling Fyff.

“You’ve been asleep for four hours, and I’ve kept an eye out, boss, nothing’s been happening,” Fyff said. “I’ve been listening in to both the Bratva and Bertinellis. They’re pulling their forces back, reevaluating what they can do with you interfering. But I’m having trouble listening in on pertinent conversations with the Bertinellis. I think they figured out we hacked into their phones. They’ve started putting their phones in some kinda Faraday cage outside of the room where they’re planning, so we can’t even enhance the audio since we’re not getting _anything_. We’re gonna have a lot less time to plan how to react, G.A.”

“Well, I knew that would happen eventually,” Oliver replied. “Even MC’s with illegal means of income know better than to take their phones into important meetings. The mob’s certainly going to realize something like that’s happening and take the appropriate measures. Do your best to find another way we can keep on top of them, Henry.” **_*1*_**

“Already on it,” Fyff said. “Looking into all the networked electronics in the house, trying to find one that’s near enough to where they’re making plans that we can use it as a microphone. Oh, and the reinforcements from Gotham arrived. That wasn’t a hidden conversation. Bunch of goombahs that work for Carmine Falcone, led by Victor Zsasz.”

“Well, that’s going to complicate matters,” Oliver said. “Zsasz and Falcone’s thugs are going to be used to dealing with a vigilante mucking things up. They’ll have countermeasures that our local mafiosos wouldn’t.”

“So, those rumors outta Gotham are real? There’s some guy that runs around dressed like a bat and beating people to a pulp?” Fyff asked.

“Yes,” Oliver said shortly, though his lips twitched. “I’m going to go for a patrol, make sure no one’s taking advantage of the chaos.”

“So, four hours was enough?” Fyff asked skeptically.

“I’ve gotten by on less,” was Oliver’s reply as he picked up his bow and quiver.

**_*DC*_ **

Bruce Wayne scowled darkly as he went over the recent intelligence that Barbara Gordon, codenamed Oracle, had sent him on the whereabouts of Victor Zsasz and over twenty of Carmine Falcone’s best and brightest. According to Barbara, Zsasz and his men were being loaned out to Don Franco ‘Frank’ Bertinelli of Starling City. This was troubling, and worse, it left Bruce in an awkward position. While Wayne Enterprises had holdings in most major cities, he had left Starling to the Queens and Merlyns, deciding there was simply too much between the two families for him to compete with. As such, he had no _reason_ to go to Starling to cover his real reason for being there, not unless he was willing to establish at least a small presence there. But the only way to do that was to entertain a joint project with either Merlyn or Queen.

But Zsasz and his men _were_ Bruce’s responsibility, even if Starling had their own vigilante. And that was the other side of this conundrum. Green Arrow may not like Batman showing up and hunting in his territory; on the other hand, it was possible the younger vigilante (and he was most certainly younger) may be open to aid, considering there was a full-scale mob war between the Bertinellis and the Bratva in Starling City. And if the intel Oracle had on Green Arrow was any indication, the younger vigilante could use some guidance as to how to end a hostage situation, like Green Arrow had faced with the schoolchildren, without killing the perpetrators. Yes, whether he liked it or not, he _needed_ to go to Starling and deal with those who were his responsibility, and maybe provide some guidance to Green Arrow while he was there, as he had done so for Dick and Barbara.

So, who to approach? Queen or Merlyn? Bruce considered what he knew about each of them before making his decision. Queen was younger and far more open-minded to new ideas, with the kind of idealism that Bruce admired in a business partner. By comparison, Merlyn tended to play his cards close to his vest and wasn’t known for taking part in joint ventures with those outside of his immediate circle. Also, Merlyn was several years Bruce’s senior, and the one time they had met had been particularly patronizing. That sort of thing left a bad taste in one’s mouth.

With the ‘who’ now decided, Bruce focused on _what_ he could bring to the table to entice Queen into a long-term series of meetings that would allow Bruce to stay in Starling long enough to bring Zsasz and his men to justice, something that was certain to take a while. He brought up the list of defunct projects from Wayne Enterprises’ own Applied Sciences division and looked through them until he found one that would probably fit with Queen’s desire to better the lives of others. A project to design a source of clean energy that could provide power for an entire city if necessary. The technology simply hadn’t been viable at the time it was proposed, during his father’s time as Chairman of the Board of Directors at Wayne Enterprises. But technology had advanced a great deal since that time, and Queen’s Applied Sciences division was on the cutting edge, whereas Wayne Enterprises’ division had fallen by the wayside. They _would_ need a partner to get this project off the ground.

Bruce spent the rest of his brief time in the Batcave beneath Wayne Manor arranging the details of his trip to Starling City and selecting what gear he would take with him. The Batmobile was out; it was far too distinctive, and he preferred to keep a low profile. The Batcycle, on the other hand, was good enough at slipping between lines of traffic the way he had seen Green Arrow doing on his motorcycle. He called Lucius Fox and asked him to arrange a meeting with Oliver Queen tomorrow afternoon. With everything arranged, Bruce headed upstairs into the manor to get some sleep before his flight to Starling City. **_*2*_**

**_*DC*_ **

Oliver returned to the Bunker, placing his bow on the stand and laying his quiver beside it as had become habit in the past thirty-six hours since the struggle to keep the Bratva-Bertinelli conflict from causing too many casualties had begun. Overall, he had stopped three rape attempts, ten muggings, and two bodega robberies, leaving all the perpetrators trussed up with bolo arrows. After thirty-six hours of fighting nothing but mobsters, it felt good to get back to doing his normal routine, even if he had been constantly on the comms with Fyff and keeping track of the two crime families. It appeared both had decided not to act any further tonight, though, and Fyff had turned a stereo that used Bluetooth radio into their microphone in the Bertinelli household.

Oliver took a look at Fyff and said, “Henry, take a few hours and catch some sleep. I’ll monitor the computers and if something happens that I need to go out to handle, I’ll wake you.”

“Okay, boss,” Fyff said, moving towards his own cot with a yawn. He collapsed on top of it as Oliver took his seat behind the computers.

Oliver waited until Fyff’s snores filled the air, and then he accessed a special program he had developed himself to keep track of someone near and dear to him that he could not be there for. The screen showed a darkened bedroom, a child’s bedroom. After what had happened earlier, Oliver needed to see his son, see him safe and happy, content. The camera on the boy’s computer was used as his eyes into William’s innocent world. His son was asleep on his bed, across from the computer desk, shifting in his sleep, face turned towards the computer, eyes closed. Oliver studied the chubby face of the seven-year-old, his lips twitching into a soft, sad smile as he reached out and traced the lines of the boy’s face, such as they were. Finally, with more than a little reluctance, Oliver closed out the program. He didn’t want to become too voyeuristic with his son’s life; he just wanted to know he was safe and sound, and he had done that.

Oliver leaned back in the chair, setting the various feeds to a low volume, loud enough that he could monitor them but low enough that he could doze lightly. It was unlikely anything would happen, late as it was; it was almost three a.m., and if the Bratva or Bertinellis were going to try anything, they would have by now. Oliver leaned back in the seat and fell into a light doze, pulling himself out of it every hour or so to check the monitors and find if anything was amiss, trusting his system would flag anything important should he miss it. Soon, it was six a.m., and Fyff was stirring behind him. Fyff yawned as he got up and stretched before heading for the coffee pot he kept down here, flicking it on. “Anything happen, boss?” Fyff asked.

“No,” Oliver said. “I dozed a bit, but the system didn’t flag anything. Looks like all was quiet.”

“Good,” Fyff said. “Cuz I don’t think either of us could’ve gone through another night where we had to be on alert the entire time, especially after the day we had.” Fyff poured two cups of coffee, both straight black, and came over, handing one to Oliver, who took it as he stood and allowed Fyff to slip back into his place. “So, you gonna wear that thing until this is over?” Fyff asked, referring to the RQ-1141.

“Much as I’d like to stay in it, I’ll have to take it off soon,” Oliver said. “With any luck, we’ll get enough warning that I’m not barely ahead of whoever makes a move. Besides, I _have_ to put in some public appearances as Oliver Queen, and I can’t do that wearing this.” _Though it would certainly cause a lot of talk if I did,_ Oliver thought to himself, grimacing behind his coffee cup. He considered the time. Metropolis was two hours ahead of Starling, so Laurel should be up now. He picked up his phone, unplugging it from the charger, and activated it. He scrolled down his list of contacts and selected Laurel’s name before holding the phone up to his ear.

The phone rang three times before she picked up. “Ollie?” she asked slowly.

“Hey,” he said softly. “I’ve got a little time, just wanted to check in.”

“I’m glad you did,” Laurel said. “Sara found all the videos of you from yesterday and showed them to me. I saw you get shot, Ollie.”

“I’m fine, the suit protected me,” Oliver said. “I’m probably bruised underneath, but nothing broken, nothing bleeding. I promised you, Laurel, that I would always come back to you. I don’t plan on breaking that.”

“I know,” Laurel said. “And I know I shouldn’t worry, I’ve seen you in action, and from the looks of it, you’re moving faster than ever, and I know you can handle whatever’s thrown at you. It’s just… I love you, and seeing you get shot…”

“I know,” Oliver said softly. “It feels like your body is seizing up, like you can’t breathe, and your brain is frozen in fear.”

“Yes,” Laurel breathed out. “How did you…?”

“Because that’s how I felt when Hunt took you,” Oliver replied. “The instant I saw your face on the news, heard the report that you’d been kidnapped… I felt that panic grip me, and it was only by focusing on what I could do to get you back that kept me from being overwhelmed. But Laurel, I promise you, you have nothing to worry about. I’ve faced worse odds than this, and I’ve done it without the protection my new suit provides. I’m going to be fine. Now, tell me, how did the hearing go?”

“The judge was _very_ unimpressed with you,” Laurel said dryly. “And _no one_ was happy about that nasty little surprise you dropped on us.”

Oliver winced. “Sorry,” he said softly. “I know I should’ve trusted you with that, but I just… I get paranoid when it comes to Merlyn, and I didn’t want to risk _any chance_ of that bastard finding out about Thea before Tommy had custody of her.”

“Well, the custody transfer went off without issue, but there’s something I better tell you,” Laurel said, and Oliver straightened at her serious tone. “Thea told Tommy there’s something about Malcolm that has you and I on edge, and he’s suspicious.”

Oliver scowled at that. He had _trusted_ Thea with the most basic information, and she had spilled the beans as soon as she could to Tommy, proving that he had been right not to tell her. He was glad, now, that he hadn’t gotten a chance to tell her everything like Dr. Green had suggested. Speaking of, he realized with a grimace, he actually had an appointment with Dr. Green this morning. As much as he hated it, Oliver Queen had to put in some public appearances, both for the sake of his company and to show Bertinelli and Anatoli that he wasn’t afraid to poke his head out of hiding. “I see,” Oliver finally said. “What did you tell him when he asked?”

“I told him if he wants answers to talk to you,” Laurel said. “But he… changed a bit after he received a call from Malcolm. About Brickwell.”

“Ah,” Oliver said. This was going to be tricky.

“Ollie, how did you know?” Laurel asked. “Tommy asked me to ask you, and for once I don’t mind playing messenger, because I’m curious, too. How did you know? I remember you telling Henry to keep an eye on Brickwell. You’ve been tracking him for weeks. _How did you know?_ ”

“Novu,” Oliver said, once again lying with the truth, as he wouldn’t have known about Brickwell without Novu sending his soul back in time. “I told you that he showed me a potential future, remember? I saw Brickwell’s capture in that future, heard him confess to Rebecca’s murder. My godmother deserved justice. And you know Tommy won’t believe all of that without meeting Novu. That’s impossible, now.”

“Yeah, I suppose it is,” Laurel said softly. “Do you think this will make Malcolm stop and think?”

“It might, but more than likely he’ll focus on getting revenge on Brickwell, and then continue with his plans,” Oliver said. “Killing Brickwell will sate his bloodlust for a time, but he blames everyone who lives in the Glades for standing by and watching Rebecca bleed out. He wants them _all_ to pay, not just the man who murdered her.”

“You really _do_ understand him, don’t you?” Laurel whispered.

“I told you,” Oliver said, looking down at his armored hand and remembering when his hands were covered in Laurel’s blood, “he and I are mirror images of one another. He’s a dark reflection of what I could become if I ever lost you.”

“You’ll never lose me, Ollie,” Laurel said, “and if you ever do, I _know_ you won’t turn into Malcolm, because you wouldn’t want to dishonor who I was.” Oliver closed his eyes at hearing that because he knew in his heart that it was true. Him becoming like Malcolm was only a sliver of a chance, as had been proven after he killed Darhk. He still continued to fight for the people of Star City, even though his hope had been destroyed, his soul ripped in half with the death of Laurel Lance. He had even faced down a version of himself that had essentially become like Malcolm when the Earth-Xers had invaded. “Ollie, I hope you’re taking care of yourself and not running yourself ragged.”

“I got a few hours of sleep last night since the Bratva and Bertinellis are in a holding pattern,” Oliver replied. “Went out for a patrol and then dozed a bit more at the Bunker.”

“Good,” Laurel said, satisfied. “Sara’s insisted we play tourist today, going to museums around Metropolis and such. But Ollie, I can only get away with being away from C.N.R.I. for another day or two. I know you want me to stay away from Starling, but you’re not the only one with responsibilities that they can’t walk away from.” Oliver closed his eyes again, knowing what was coming. “I can either come back on your plane or buy my own ticket. But the reason I came here is done. Thea’s in Tommy’s custody now. I can’t legitimately claim to have any business in Metropolis.”

“The plane will be fueled and ready whenever you decide to come back,” Oliver said after a moment. “I know you have your own responsibilities, Laurel. Just, when you’re back, please be careful. And I’m gonna want you to stay at the Bunker as much as possible.”

“I can do that,” Laurel said agreeably. “I’ll worry less if I can see you come back safe, too.”

“I’ll see you when you get in, then,” Oliver said, wishing he could convince Laurel to stay in Metropolis but knowing she and Sara were the only two people who could match him for stubbornness. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Laurel said. “Bye, Ollie.”

“Goodbye,” Oliver said, hanging up.

“So, Miss Lance is coming back, huh?” Fyff said after a moment.

“Which means it’s time to stop playing defense,” Oliver said sharply, standing and moving behind Fyff. “Find targets for me to hit, Henry.”

“Still got the list of the Bratva’s holdings from yesterday, but it’ll take some time for the Bertinellis,” Fyff said.

“I have a therapy session in three hours, you have until I’m finished with it,” Oliver said.

“Got it,” Fyff said. Oliver sighed and moved off to the side, where he began to slowly remove his armored suit. As much as he wanted to be ready to go at a moment’s notice, he had spent over twenty-four hours in the suit and his muscles were beginning to cramp. The Bratva and Bertinellis were likely to maintain a holding pattern while they gathered intel on each other. This was the eye of the storm, a period of calm in the center of the chaos, and Oliver knew that once Laurel returned, the Bratva would have a target to go after to try and force him to do their will.

**_*DC*_ **

Oliver, his Armani suit rumpled, entered Dr. Green’s office after shutting his phone off so the session would go uninterrupted. He stood a seat in the armchair, looking down at his hands. “It’s good to see you again, Oliver,” Dr. Green said. “I wouldn’t have blamed you if you chose not to come today, considering what’s happening outside.”

“I considered cancelling,” Oliver said, “but there’s been some developments that I really need to talk to someone about, someone who isn’t invested one way or the other.”

“That’s why I’m here,” Dr. Green said.

“Thea ran away,” Oliver said. “I came home from working late and found that she had propped pillows up under her blankets. I checked with Laurel, checked the mansion, finally had a friend track her down and found out she’d gone to Metropolis. I asked another friend to go after her. Tommy found out and blew up at me since I wasn’t going after Thea myself, and he couldn’t accept that I just have too many responsibilities here in Starling. I put a lot of thought into things while Sara and Tommy searched for Thea, and I realized that I couldn’t be the guardian my sister needed right now. So, I sent Laurel to Metropolis a couple of days ago to begin the process of transferring guardianship to Tommy. The guardianship hearing was yesterday, but I was too busy with work and couldn’t fly to Metropolis for it. I talked to Laurel this morning, and I guess the judge wasn’t very impressed. I also found out Thea told Tommy about something I had trusted her with, so I’m kind of glad I didn’t tell her everything, like you suggested. Things would be very bad if Tommy knew those things.”

Dr. Green slowly sorted through everything Oliver had said and considered her next words carefully. “Are you absolutely certain giving custody of your sister, who is suffering a disconnect with you, to your best friend, who is also suffering such a disconnect, is the wisest idea? They may end up feeding off of one another’s negativity and become more hostile towards you as a result. I know from our previous session, and from what you’ve said here, that Thea is important to you. How will you deal with it if she comes to despise you and so does your best friend because of this?”

“I guess I’ll have to deal with it if it happens,” Oliver replied. “Because I can’t be the person that my sister needs me to be. My responsibilities to Queen Consolidated and to Starling City have to come first.”

“What responsibilities?” Dr. Green asked. Oliver said nothing. “Alright. Let’s try something else. How is your relationship with your girlfriend?”

“Pretty good,” Oliver said, a soft smile touching his lips. “She’s finished helping Tommy get custody of Thea, so she’s on her way back. I’m worried about her coming back in the middle of this mob war, but I know I can’t force her to stay away. Just like me, she has responsibilities.” _Doesn’t mean I don’t wish I could’ve found a way to keep her away for longer while I deal with all of this,_ Oliver added silently to himself.

Dr. Green studied her most illustrious patient and concluded, not for the first time, that he was probably going to be her most troublesome. They had covered very little of substance in their first session beyond his joy at being in a relationship with Laurel Lance again and his worries over how to connect with Thea in the aftermath of their mother’s suicide. “Oliver, I can see something is eating away at you,” she said. “I’m here to help, but I _can’t_ help if you won’t talk to me.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to talk to someone,” Oliver said. “It’s that I _can’t_. What I’m dealing with, I have to deal with on my own.” _The only confidant I had was murdered by a serial killer who happens to be a cannibal,_ he added silently. _Makes it hard to want to tell someone the truth._

“Oliver, there are times we put blocks on ourselves, blocks that do more harm to us than good,” Dr. Green said quietly. “Only you can tear down those walls and learn to trust again. I’m here to help you on that journey, but it’s _you_ who has to make the choice.”

The rest of the session was spent with Dr. Green trying to start a conversation and Oliver providing answers with limited information that left Dr. Green with no avenues to explore. Oliver Queen, it appeared, was an expert at dodging around well-meaning questions.

Oliver stepped out of the building where Dr. Green kept her office, turning on his phone as he did so. He waited for it to boot up, but before he could call Fyff and ask for an update, he found he had a message from Ned Foster, asking him to call him A.S.A.P. Oliver frowned, but scrolled through his list of contacts until he found Ned’s name and selected it, putting the phone to his ear. “Oliver, I’m glad you called,” Ned said as he picked up. “I was beginning to think that you wouldn’t get my message in time.”

“In time for what?” Oliver asked.

“We got a call early this morning from Lucius Fox, the Chairman of the Board of Directors at Wayne Enterprises,” Ned replied, and Oliver stiffened slightly, having an idea of what was coming. “Bruce Wayne is interested in partnering with Queen Consolidated’s Applied Sciences division on a clean energy project and was due to arrive in Starling an hour ago. The meeting’s set for two p.m. Oliver, you _need_ to make this meeting; this could do a lot more for Queen Consolidated, bring even more needed jobs to Starling if we play our cards right.”

“I understand, Ned,” Oliver said, his mind racing. Was this just a ploy to give Wayne a reason to be in Starling, or was this a genuine offer of collaboration? “I’ll be there. I promise.”

“Thank you,” Ned said. “I’ll see you this afternoon, Oliver.” He hung up and left a pensive Oliver Queen standing on the sidewalk outside of his therapist’s office.

**_*DC*_ **

Anatoli Knyasev examined the file that Alexi had handed him. It was the report from their people in Metropolis, who had located the people Oliver cared about who had left Starling. It appeared Oliver was abandoning his own flesh and blood to be given into the custody of his best friend, who was Merlyn’s son. An interesting choice on his former friend’s part. Yes, it was sad that their friendship could not last, but Oliver had chosen his course, and Anatoli had to do whatever was necessary to keep his position in the Bratva. He had known it would be a long uphill struggle to change the Bratva if change was even possible. Oliver could have aided him in doing this, but he had chosen to stand against Anatoli. And so, Anatoli would use those he cared about against him.

The Queen heiress and Merlyn scion were too well-protected inside Merlyn Global’s Metropolis headquarters. While they were seeking accommodation within the city, it would take time and even then, there was no guarantee they would be able to snatch them. It was unfortunate; threatening to sell his sister into slavery would have changed Oliver’s tune soon enough. That left the Lance sisters, who were staying at the Empire Hotel. High-class, but the staff were easily bought. But there was something about Sara Lance that made Anatoli uneasy, and not just because of what he had seen of her ruthless side on Lian Yu, when she planned to blow Slade up using Hendrik. Oliver was not a man who would trust just anyone with the safety of his sister. He trusted Sara to be able to defend those he cared about.

Despite this, though, there was a window of opportunity that could be taken advantage of. Sara Lance often left her sister while going to find dinner for the two of them, leaving her sister defenseless. The elder Lance sister could be taken from her hotel room during this window of opportunity and be on her way back to Starling City before Sara even realized that she was missing. Oliver would bend to the pressure of facing the loss of the woman he loved. He would not be able to live with himself if he lost her after getting her back. Especially if Anatoli turned her over to the brothers to break. She was attractive and breaking her spirit through a combination of drugs and rape would whet the men’s appetites for the Bertinelli woman. Anatoli smiled grimly and made the call. Laurel Lance was the leverage he needed to bring Oliver Queen to heel. **_*3*_**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter.
> 
> Chapter Notes:
> 
> *1* This is a reference to “Sons of Anarchy”, where the members always put their phones in a box before going in for ‘church’.
> 
> *2* While I’m uncertain regarding the casting of Bruce Wayne/Tommy Elliot in “Batwoman”, I’m going ahead and using Warren Christie in the role while picturing Wayne in my head. But feel free to picture who you want.
> 
> *3* For those wondering, yes, this is a reference to Katie Cassidy’s role in “Taken”.


	41. The Metropolis Abduction

Oliver Queen entered the boardroom at Queen Consolidated to find Ned waiting with Bruce Wayne and a few lawyers from both Queen Consolidated and Wayne Enterprises. This was the first time Oliver had met Wayne, and he couldn’t help but draw comparisons between Wayne and Carter Bowen, an unpleasant aspect as far as Oliver was concerned considering his strong dislike of the latter. “Mr. Wayne, I understand you have a proposition for us,” Oliver said, taking a seat at the head of the table, Ned and their lawyers sitting to his right while Wayne and his three lawyers sat to the left.

“Yes,” Wayne said. “I’ve been looking over the files from Wayne Enterprises’ own Applied Sciences division and found an old project from my father’s time that simply wasn’t viable with the technology of the time. The idea was to design a generator that could provide a source of clean energy for an entire city if necessary. The idea was to eventually miniaturize the technology and use it in vehicles, cutting down the need for fossil fuels. While we _could_ handle this project ourselves, I feel it would be better for us to have a partner to help carry the burden. This is simply too large a project for one company. I’ve gone over this with Mr. Fox and he assures me that Queen Consolidated is the right company to partner with for this.”

“Interesting,” Oliver said. “I’m curious how you reached that conclusion. I am flattered that you’ve chosen my company, but I would think LuthorCorp would be a better fit, as they can be equal partners in terms of finance and manpower.”

“Lex Luthor is an old classmate of mine, and one who lacks a certain degree of empathy for his fellow man,” Wayne replied. “Everything I have seen and heard about you since your return, Oliver, tells me that you are the man that I want to partner with for this. We can bring about a new age for mankind with this, a golden era, if you will. What do you say? Partners?” He held out a hand. Ned watched them with bated breath.

Finally, Oliver reached out and shook Wayne’s hand. “Partners,” he agreed. “Now, as much as I would like to stay here and discuss details, I have a pressing matter to attend to elsewhere. Ned will keep me informed of all the pertinent details. Good day, Mr. Wayne.” Oliver stood and left the boardroom.

Wayne looked at Ned Foster in surprise. “He does that,” Ned said with a shrug. “He’s still not used to what it means to actually be C.E.O. It’s a work in progress.”

“I see,” Wayne replied. In fact, he did see; he wasn’t much one for this sort of thing himself. That was why he had brought the lawyers, to handle all the pertinent details so that he could begin researching Starling. He had already purchased a small warehouse on the outskirts of the city and transported his equipment there. He needed to set up a Batcomputer to connect with the network, allow Oracle to dig into Starling. But he would need to at least stay for a brief time. Then he could get to work on the _real_ reason he was here. **_*1*_**

**_*DC*_ **

Oliver stepped into the elevator to the Bunker, undoing his tie as he did so and shedding his suit jacket. Fyff had still been digging into the Bertinellis when he left to attend the meeting with Bruce Wayne, and Oliver hoped that by now Fyff had _some_ targets from the Bertinelli side. If not, Oliver was going to have to make a choice between continuing playing defense until both sides gave up, or crush the Bratva, allowing the Bertinellis to claim supremacy in the criminal underworld of Starling City. There was also the fact that Batman was likely to be active on the streets tonight and would probably be seeking out Green Arrow. That would be an interesting experience, since Oliver had little knowledge about Batman and his methods. His limited exposure to Kate Kane was just that, exposure to Kate Kane and Batwoman. She was not the same person as her cousin, just like he wasn’t either of his parents.

The doors to the elevator slid open, allowing Oliver to step out into the Bunker. “How’s it going, Henry?” he asked, throwing his tie and discarded jacket onto the cot where he had been sleeping off and on for the past forty-eight hours.

“I finally dug up all of the Bertinellis’ operations,” Fyff replied. “They aren’t kidding about being the more ‘civilized’ mob, boss. Most of their income is from legit sources, as far as the law is concerned. Porn studio, construction company, investments in a lot of businesses, including yours, even a couple of strip clubs and an escort service. They use the porn studio, the strip clubs, and the escort service to disguise their prostitution ring. They’ve taken over the Triad’s drug operations, mainly the ones surrounding prescription drugs, but they keep it in diverse locations so as to not present a target like when you took out the Triad’s operations.”

“We can’t do much about the prostitution ring with them disguising it the way they are,” Oliver said. “But we _can_ go after their drug operation. Get me intel on where they’re keeping it all, and I’ll go hunting.” Oliver began unbuttoning his cuffs and shed his dress shirt, exposing his torso, which had several bruises from where he had been shot and his armor had taken the hit. Oliver winced, barely, as his muscles twinged at the movement involved in taking his shirt off. He shoved the pain, minute as it was, out of his mind and focused on what he could do. It was time to send a message to the both the Bratva and Bertinellis and do his best to cripple their operations. “And keep an eye out for any interference in our comm signals,” he added. “Something tells me that I’m going to have company tonight.”

“Company?” Fyff asked confusedly, but Oliver didn’t elaborate.

**_*DC*_ **

Green Arrow exited the warehouse, explosions ripping apart the drug supply contained within and taking a good chunk out of the Bertinellis’ illicit gains. A feeling of grim satisfaction welled in Green Arrow, as this was the last storehouse for Bertinelli’s drug supply. Then a sharp retort was heard, and something slammed into his chest, throwing him back, his bow flying out of his grasp as his hands automatically went to his chest. He could feel the slug embedded there. Sniper round, .50 caliber if he wasn’t mistaken. It had buried itself in the armor but hadn’t pierced it completely. Green Arrow slowly drew in a breath, and then rolled over, grabbing his bow, and then turning and firing an explosive arrow in the direction the bullet had come from. The arrow impacted the ledge of the roof, and detonated, sending the sniper scrambling backwards.

Three black sedans screeched to a halt, and well-armed mafiosos spilled out of them. At their head was a bald man wielding a pair of Desert Eagles. Victor Zsasz, Don Carmine Falcone’s chief enforcer and a frequent visitor of Arkham Asylum due to his side hobby of killing young women and adding a ‘notch’ to his body count by cutting a line on his body. The mafiosos that surrounded Green Arrow were armed with high caliber weapons. One on their own might not be a problem, but ten? Green Arrow wasn’t so sure that even he could avoid a bullet to the head (or a series of bullets) with all of them firing at him, and that’s if they didn’t break through his armor. These weren’t run of the mill mafiosos. No, these guys knew how to fight someone like Green Arrow, had probably tangled with Batman. That told Green Arrow something about his Gotham counterpart’s methods, and he wasn’t too keen on meeting the man now. They were _definitely_ going to have a difference of opinion about taking down multiple opponents.

“The men around you have been trained to deal with vigilantes who wear top-of-the-line armor,” Zsasz said, unholstering his own weapons and confirming Green Arrow’s suspicions about the men surrounding him, “and they’ll fire at the simplest of twitches. You may be good, but these men are excellent marksmen.”

“ **What do you want from me?** ” Green Arrow asked, trying to figure out a strategy to get himself free.

“Don Bertinelli recognizes that his family and the people loyal to them owe you a debt for saving the children, but you’ve also been keeping him from ending this conflict,” Zsasz replied. “This cannot continue. The Don requests that you back off and allow us to finish this conflict once and for all. We can crush the Bratva; I’m sure you know this. Why keep things going the way they have been and draw this conflict out?”

“ **Because I know what kind of people you have working for you, and what kind of man _you_ are, Victor Zsasz,**” Green Arrow replied. “ **I will not back down. So, I guess we’ll find out who is the better marksman.** ” Green Arrow nocked and fired an explosive arrow between two men before turning and leaping in between another two, grabbing them by the backs of their coats and using them as a shield, backing back towards the warehouse, where a fire was still raging. He ducked into the warehouse, barely evading gunfire once they had a line of sight, and fired a grappling arrow, taking himself up onto the beams that crisscrossed the ceiling, hiding in the black smoke that filled the air.

“Find him!” he heard Zsasz shout. “Get those two out of here. They’re no good to us now.” Green Arrow grinned at that, then had to repress a cough as the smoke from the fire irritated his throat. His bike was outside, passed the line of sedans. He needed to trick Zsasz and all the men into the warehouse and then get out of here while they searched for him in vain. He peered through the smoke, and followed along with one of the men, getting ahead of him, then turned and examined the situation. The men were all breathing through wet cloths, which would make the sleeping gas arrows he had on hand useless. He selected a basic arrow, nocked it, and took aim. He loosed the arrow, which sailed down and pierced through a man’s lower leg, sticking out of the back of the calf, blood dripping from it’s tip. The man screamed and fired wildly in the direction that the arrow had come from, but Green Arrow had begun moving as soon as he fired, passing overhead and back towards the front of the warehouse.

“G.A., the cops are on the way,” Fyff told him over the comms.

“ **Understood, but I’m a little busy,** ” Green Arrow hissed out, trying to peer through the smoke. He couldn’t make out whether there were any men below him or not, the smoke was too thick now. He was starting to feel a little light-headed, as well, and that wasn’t good. Then he heard a scream from somewhere else in the warehouse, a scream that didn’t match the voice of the man he had hit with an arrow, so it didn’t come from an arrow being pulled out of a man. There was _someone else_ in the warehouse with them, someone who was using the shadows to their advantage, who knew how to do so. _He’s here,_ Green Arrow thought grimly to himself. He peered over the steel beams like the one he was mounted on and thought he could just barely make out the silhouette of a caped figure about ten yards away, staring down into the smoke as though he was actually seeing through it. _Maybe he is,_ Green Arrow thought. **_*2*_**

Knowing that he couldn’t do anything up here but fall unconscious from smoke inhalation, Green Arrow leaped down from where he had been crouching, landing behind a burning crate. He peered around the corner of the crate, aware of the flames inching ever-downward. Zsasz and his men were searching the support beams above, or trying to, through the smoke, turned in the other direction. Green Arrow took his chance and raced, still crouched, towards the entrance to the warehouse. There was one man guarding the entrance in case he got passed the others. Green Arrow delivered a right hook to the man’s throat, paralyzing his vocal cords, and then gripped him in a backwards headlock before breaking his neck.

Green Arrow let the man drop silently to the ground and raced for his bike, sliding across the hood of one of the sedans, and reached his Ducati. He swung one leg over it, already turning the ignition, and then raced off even as Zsasz and his men ran out of the warehouse full of burning drugs.

Green Arrow dodged into the Glades, using his knowledge of the city to his advantage and losing his pursuers. With that done, Green Arrow turned his motorcycle deeper into the Glades, heading back to the Bunker. “ **I’m coming back in,** ” he reported to Fyff.

“Got it, G.A.,” was the distracted reply.

**_*DC*_ **

Dinah Laurel Lance sighed as she leaned back in the armchair that came with her room, reading a mystery novel she had picked up at a bookstore while out on the town with her sister. The day had gone by smoothly, the Lance sisters having spent it playing tourist in Metropolis. They had gone to museums, visited the _Daily Planet_ , even gone on a tour of LuthorCorp plaza, where their tour group had had the fortune to meet Lex Luthor himself, the owner and C.E.O. of LuthorCorp. It was a good distraction from everything that had happened yesterday with the court case, since Laurel knew that how everything played out had painted Oliver as an uncaring brother who was abandoning his own flesh and blood, and she knew that wasn’t who Oliver was in his bones, even if Thea and Tommy believed otherwise.

If anything, Oliver was _too_ caring; that was why he had become Green Arrow. He cared so deeply for their city, for the people who were suffering because of Merlyn’s plot, and he ached with them. Laurel had seen the pain in his eyes when he talked of the dire straits the people of their city were in, had heard the passion in his voice at that dinner party when he ridiculed Thomas Wilkins and Commissioner Nudocerdo. So, no, Oliver’s problem wasn’t that he didn’t care, but that he cared _too much_. She knew he must be hurting with what their city was going through, even if he was taking measures to end this mob war before too many innocent people could be hurt. She wished that she could be there for him; he needed someone in his corner, someone supporting him. She salved her conscience with the knowledge that she would be flying back to Starling tomorrow morning, despite Sara’s protestations. Laurel swore that when it came time for him to take down Merlyn, she wouldn’t let him push her out of town like he had with this situation. She wanted to be there for him when he finally took his godfather down, even if it was only as a silent support in the aftermath.

A knock came at the door. Laurel set the book she had been trying to read on the table beside the chair and got up, heading for the door. Sara was probably back with their dinner. They were trying new food from the Thai place Sara had discovered a mile away. Sara was heading there on foot, saying she wanted to keep in shape. Personally, Laurel thought her sister was getting antsy, cooped up in the hotel, and was probably itching to explore more of Metropolis despite the fact they had spent the day playing tourist. Laurel didn’t question the fact Sara had knocked, since her hands were probably full of bags. Laurel opened the door, and then immediately tried to shove it closed when she saw three thickly-built men on the other side.

The nearest man rammed against the door line a football player breaking through a defensive line and she was thrown back onto the ground, the air leaving her lungs in a rush. She gasped in air and then kicked the approaching man directly in the balls before rolling up into a crouch and popping to her feet, raising her hands in front of her the way Ted had taught her. All she needed to do was keep these bastards busy until Sara got back; she could do that. She _could_ do this!

The other two men entered, closing the door behind them and taking up positions on either side of the man she had kicked between the legs, who had recovered and was now cracking his knuckles menacingly. She tried not to gulp at the imposing sight, especially when she factored in that she was a slender woman who was only just beginning to gain the muscle necessary to deliver the kind of punishing blows her sister and Ollie were capable of. Maybe she couldn’t do this. _No, don’t think like that!_ She ordered to herself silently. _You_ can _do this!_

The center man spoke. “Anatoli Knyasev want speak with you,” he said in broken English, his Russian accent very thick.

“Then Anatoli Knyasev can make an appointment, my social calendar is full,” Laurel shot back, unable to help the smart-ass comment that sprung from her lips. She was so _sick_ of these bastards coming in, knocking her about, and then dragging her off! Enough was enough! Even if she couldn’t fight them off, she was going to deliver some zingers for them to remember her by.

“No choice,” the man said. “You come with us now.” The three men moved forward as one. Laurel dodged an attempt to grab her and delivered a quick right hook to the jaw of the man on her left, wincing slightly as her hand connected. He had a head like an oak, and her punch hadn’t seemed to have phased him at all. Laurel tried to deliver a straight punch to the man in the center, hoping to paralyze his movements for a moment with a hit to the solar plexus like Ted had shown her, but he snatched her wrist in his meaty fist and bent it backwards, eliciting a cry of pain from her. He delivered a blow with his left fist to her stomach, and she grunted as she bent over, wheezing. The other two men didn’t seem to have any issue hitting women, either, because they rained down blows on her torso, and she cowered back under the blows. Then one of the men grabbed her slender neck in his bearpaw of a hand and began squeezing. Laurel choked, clawing at the man’s hand and leaving bloody scratches in his flesh that he ignored, smiling at her as he lifted her up off the ground, her feet dangling inches above the ground, legs kicking frantically. Her eyelids were fluttering as she began to lose consciousness.

And then the door to her room opened and her sister Sara stepped in. For a moment, Sara stood there, bags of Thai takeout in her hand, just taking in the sight of the three Bratva thugs that had been brutally beating her sister. Then Sara’s expression went vacant, her blue eyes losing their light and taking on the cold, deathly aura one would see in a shark’s as it prepared to grip a person in its jaws and shred them to pieces. She set down the Thai food even as Laurel was thrown aside, barely conscious, as the three men got ready to give Sara a similar beatdown. The Pakhan had warned them that there was something _unusual_ about Sara Lance, but they were _Bratva_. They were not afraid of a curvy blonde. They would take both sisters, brutalize them on the way to Starling City, and deliver broken and obedient slaves to their Pakhan who would do as he asked.

Sara moved quickly, delivering a knife-hand strike to the throat of the first man to attack her before delivering a series of quick, vicious strikes to his ribs, leaving him winded and dizzy from lack of oxygen. She delivered a high kick to the jaw of the next man then ran and slid under the legs of the third man, delivering a quick strike to his balls as she did so. Coming up with a bounce in her step, Sara delivered three quick strikes to the back of the man’s head with her fists, and he went down with a moan of pain. Sara blocked the punch of the second man and delivered a straight punch to his throat, causing him to choke on his own air and then delivered one, two, three right hooks to his jaw. He span around, lips bloody, and she leaped into the air, performing a spinning kick that struck the back of his head and knocked him out of the fight for good. That left one man left standing, and if Sara had anything to say about it, the bastard who had been strangling her sister wouldn’t be standing for very long, or able to get an erection for that matter.

The Russian bruiser had watched the woman take out his allies and knew that he would have to take drastic measures. He retrieved his nine-millimeter pistol and aimed it at Sara, who froze despite herself, and that was her undoing. Two sharp retorts filled the air as the gun fired, and Sara was thrown back, two bullets in her stomach. She curled in on herself, and the Russian raised his gun, aiming at her head consideringly. “No,” he finally said, lowering the gun. “You suffer.” He moved to the side and grabbed the barely-conscious Laurel in a fireman’s carry, and then left the room.

Sara’s blue eyes, watering with tears of pain, landed on the landline in her sister’s room. She slowly began crawling across the floor, leaving a trail of blood behind her; all she could think of was that she _didn’t_ want to die, because she needed to find whoever sent those men after Laurel and _kill_ them. **_*3*_**

**_*DC*_ **

Oliver checked over the damage done to the breastplate of the RQ-1141. It wasn’t too bad, which was surprising considering the caliber of round that had hit him. Briggs had definitely been thinking ahead when he designed the RQ-1141 and made sure it could take even .50 caliber rounds. But Oliver knew that certain companies, such as Midas Enterprises, were in the business of creating specialized ammo, and eventually he would get hit with a bullet that was designed to eat through the current make-up of his armor. That was why it was so important to find Dr. Jackson Briggs and bring him back onboard at Queen Consolidated. Oliver intended to set up a new division that would work directly for him, headed by Dr. Briggs. Considering Barry knew his secret, he would probably bring the younger man into this special division as well. Their mandate would be to develop tools and gear for his war on crime, and occasionally do some contract work, like designing more units of the RQ-1141 for A.R.G.U.S.

“Any movement from Bertinelli or Bratva?” he asked.

“None, G.A., and I think that’s not good,” Fyff said. “The Bratva are being way too quiet.” Oliver hummed his agreement on that front. “The Bertinellis though are probably freaking out that that ‘Bat’ guy followed Falcone’s men from Gotham, cuz now they have to deal with _two_ vigilantes.”

“See if you can’t figure out where in the city he’s operating from,” Oliver said. “I’d rather put him on the defensive before we speak. Based on what Zsasz said, Batman knows about these guys being trained to hunt vigilantes and hasn’t dealt with them permanently. He probably won’t like my willingness to drop bodies if my suspicions are correct. I don’t want him figuring out where we operate from, either.”

“This place is shielded, boss,” Fyff said. “Completely undetectable. Even if he got a bug on you, it would go dead once in the garage.”

“I checked my bike when I got in, no trackers,” Oliver said, referring to the security wand designed to track bugs they kept in the garage. “But that’s probably because he didn’t have a chance to plant it. In the meantime, I’m going to head out on a patrol once I get this thing back on.”

“I’ll find him,” Fyff said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter.
> 
> Chapter Notes:
> 
> *1* I hope this business meeting scene was okay. It’s not something I’m completely experienced in writing. 
> 
> *2* This is a reference to the ‘detective mode’ Batman has in the Arkham series of games, which if you turn it on bypasses smoke and the like and lets you see your targets.
> 
> *3* This was something I really wrestled with. I went through several different variations of how this scenario played out, most of them only in my head. The only two to make it into existence was the one that played out and one where Sara wiped the floor with the Russians before learning that Anatoli was the one that sent them. I was going to do that one; but when I tried to write the next chapter, it just didn’t *flow* right for me. So, I decided to see if this one did better. It did. I’m just sad that I keep putting the Lance sisters through the ringer.


	42. Alliance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Okay, some quick announcements: guest readers can now comment on the story as I have turned on comment moderation due to an Olicity fan that decided they absolutely needed to be childish and baiting, even if it meant using their account to do so. Their comments and my initial responses have been removed. Please note that comments that are baiting or intended to bash me, my story, my chosen pairing, etc. will not be allowed to go through. Nor will dissertations on random facts brought up in the story. But this change has happened across the board, so if there was a one-shot or a chapter that you really wanted to comment on, you can do so now.

Oliver had just entered the operations center of the Bunker after a successful patrol when his phone began to ring. He snatched it up and took a look at the Caller ID. Tommy Merlyn’s smiling face greeted him. Oliver took a moment to prepare himself for whatever argument Tommy wanted to have with him over Thea’s parentage or whatever else the other man might be angry about, then slid the green bar up, accepting the call. “Tommy, it’s a bit late to be calling from Metropolis,” Oliver said. “Is Thea okay?”

“Other than dealing with that bombshell you dropped on her? She’s still grieving her mother and stepfather,” Tommy said coldly. “But that’s not why I’m calling. I’m at Metropolis General. Sara’s in surgery, Oliver; someone broke into Laurel’s hotel room, put two bullets into Sara, and kidnapped Laurel according to what the police told me. I’ve seen the news about what’s going on in Starling; had to look it up since Laurel wouldn’t say anything. Does what’s happening in Starling have anything to do with this? There were two thugs knocked out in the hotel room when the police got there. Both Russians.”

“I’m afraid it probably _does_ have to do with this, Tommy,” Oliver said softly. “Thanks to some of my activities over the past five years, the leader of the Bratva knows who I am, which means he knows my weaknesses. Including how I feel about Laurel.”

“Goddamnit, Oliver!” Tommy exploded over the phone. “Can’t you see now how crazy all this is! How fucking stupid it is of you to drag Laurel into this messy life you’ve created for yourself? She’s been attacked four times now and kidnapped three of those times! This has to stop, Oliver. You want to play vigilante and go around putting arrows into bad guys like some modern-day Robin Hood, go ahead. But stay away from Laurel. End your relationship with her, if only to keep her safe.”

“I can’t do that to her again, Tommy,” Oliver said.

“Then you’re going to be attending her funeral one of these days,” Tommy said seriously, and Oliver staggered in place as if Tommy were there and had physically struck him, his mind going to that day where he stood over Laurel’s grave and mourned the loss of the love of his life, who had died never knowing the truth, believing he was madly in love with Felicity. “As long as she’s connected with you as Green Arrow, she’s a target for every last criminal that you target, and she’ll be involved with you as Green Arrow for as long as you are dating. I swear, Oliver, if Laurel gets hurt again, I am going to expose you, best friend or not. I love her, and I won’t see her hurt.” **_*1*_**

“No, you’ll just see her heartbroken,” Oliver replied softly. “Do you really think if I stop seeing her that the connection to Green Arrow will disappear? She’s known to be sympathetic to Green Arrow, Tommy, and that’s not going to vanish just because we stop dating. All it’ll mean is that she’ll be a target but without anyone to be there for her. Before we even got together, she asked me whether she was safer being pushed away or at my side. I thought about all the things that could happen, because you and I both know she won’t stop fighting injustice on her own. It’s not who she is. And I realized that there’s a better chance that she lives and makes it past thirty if I’m there with her. So, go ahead, Tommy. Call a press conference and reveal that I’m Green Arrow. I know this city like the back of my hand. The cops and the Feds will never find me. But you _will_ be limiting how much aid I can give Laurel the next time she pisses off a mob boss or drug dealer or serial killer.”

There was silence on the other end of the phone for nearly a full minute after Oliver finished speaking as Tommy mulled over Oliver’s words. Finally, Tommy spoke again. “I don’t know what is worse,” he said. “The fact that you believe that, or the fact you can make a convincing argument to stop me. Alright, Ollie. I won’t say anything, for now. But I swear, if something _permanent_ happens to Laurel…”

“If that ever happens, Tommy, Green Arrow will die that day, too,” Oliver said, and it was true. He had barely been able to force himself to move on after Laurel’s death in the previous timeline and keep going, fighting for Star City. He didn’t know if he could do it again.

“Just do whatever you have to do to save her, Oliver,” Tommy said. He hung up without saying another word.

“Boss?” Fyff asked nervously. “What’s happened?”

“Sara’s in the hospital and Laurel’s been abducted by the Russians,” Oliver replied. “I know where the Russians will touch down in Starling. Anatoli knows I know it, too. He’ll be expecting me to show up and plan accordingly.”

“So, what do we do?” Fyff asked.

“We ask for help,” Oliver said. “You tracked our friend from the Bertinelli storehouse?”

“Yeah, was kinda hard, like someone was keeping just ahead of me and leading me around by the nose, but I managed to narrow it down to this area,” Fyff said, bringing up a series of warehouses near the western docks of the city. “Pretty deserted, most of the warehouses owned by subsidiaries of subsidiaries and just sitting there, dormant, until they can be put to use by their owners.”

“Good work,” Oliver praised Fyff as he moved to the rows of arrows and began selecting his arsenal for this mission. “Keep an eye on the area, see if you can’t find something to narrow it down further.”

**_*DC*_ **

Quentin Lance was in the middle of a briefing when his phone began to ring. He excused himself and took his phone out, recognizing it was an out-of-state number calling. “Quentin Lance,” he said as he picked up, hoping this wasn’t a telemarketer.

“Detective Lance?” a woman’s voice asked. “This is Detective Maggie Sawyer with Metropolis P.D. I’m calling regarding your daughters.”

“What happened?” Quentin said, feeling his stomach turn over in dread. He should’ve gone with Laurel; he should’ve been there.

“I’m afraid your daughters were attacked in one of their hotel rooms by members of the local Russian mob,” Detective Sawyer replied sympathetically. “I’m afraid that your oldest, Laurel, is missing while your youngest, Sara, is currently in surgery at Metropolis General. She was shot twice in the stomach by their attackers; looks like your daughters put up one hell of a fight against the Russians. Two men are down, beaten and broken, and they’ll wake up handcuffed to hospital beds.” There was admiration in the detective’s voice at this. “Can you think of any reason the Russian mob would target your daughters?”

Quentin’s mind flashed to what was currently happening in Starling City and the connection his eldest had to one of the parties involved. “You heard about the mob war in Starling City?” he asked reluctantly.

“Very little,” Sawyer replied.

“It’s between the Russians and Italians, with our local vigilante right in the middle of it, fighting both sides,” Quentin said. “Laurel has a… _connection_ with the Green Arrow. He saved her life and helped her on a case. It’s pretty much common knowledge in some circles. The Bratva probably found out and decided to use my daughter as leverage.”

“I’m sorry, Detective,” Sawyer said. “I don’t see how anyone, especially a vigilante, can force the hand of a criminal organization to the point they look for leverage.” **_*2*_**

“Believe me, before this guy showed up and started dragging scumbags into the light kicking and screaming, neither did I,” Quentin said.

“We’ll do what we can from our end, but if this is really about what’s happening in Starling City, then it’s likely your daughter is already out of the city,” Sawyer said. “Again, I’m so sorry.” She hung up.

 _It’s not you that’s gotta be sorry,_ Quentin thought as he returned to the briefing, knowing he would need to report this. _It’s the Russians._ The problem was, Quentin didn’t know if he was referring to what _he_ would do, or what the _Green Arrow_ would do, and was oddly unbothered by the idea of the vigilante saving Laurel from the Russians.

**_*DC*_ **

Green Arrow landed in a crouch behind the figure seated at the computers. “ ** _I was wondering when you would come down from there,_** ” Batman said as he stood and turned to face Starling City’s vigilante.

“ **I need your help,** ” Green Arrow said reluctantly. “ **The Russians have acquired some leverage on me, a woman who I’ve helped in the past. Laurel Lance. They’ll be bringing her in by plane. I know where they’ll be landing, but Anatoli Knyasev will expect me to be there and plan accordingly.** ”

“ ** _You do need my help, in more ways than one,_** ” Batman said, turning back to the computers and beckoning Green Arrow forward. The Emerald Archer approached the computer and watched as Batman brought up a simulation. He knew instantly what this was about. He watched the simulations of himself dealing with the Bratva who were holding the children at both the meat-packing factory and the steel mill. “ ** _These were created using the witness testimony of the children. Would you say they were accurate?_** ”

“ **Yes, they’re accurate,** ” Green Arrow said, impressed and a little intimidated by the accuracy of the simulation in showing his movements.

“ ** _Here’s how you could have saved those children without killing,_** ” Batman said, and brought up new simulations. Green Arrow watched them. Both made judicious use of his flashbang, magnetic, and bolo arrows. He grimaced; Batman had a point. “ ** _Do you see where you went wrong?_** ”

“ **I do,** ” Green Arrow replied. “ **But you’re overlooking one thing in your own calculations.** ” Batman tilted his head inquiringly. “ **I’d been up over twenty-four hours with very little sleep, fighting this mob war on multiple fronts. Can you honestly say you would be able to examine things from all angles under such conditions?** ”

“ ** _Perhaps not,_** ” Batman replied. “ ** _But I would certainly try to avoid killing. You didn’t even try. You even killed a man as he tried to flee._** ”

“ **I learned that there are people in this world who deal only in extremes, and it is naïve to believe that anything less than extreme measures will stop them,** ” Green Arrow replied. “ **I’ve also learned that if you don’t have the conviction to do what must be done, you shouldn’t be out here. How many times have you tangled with those men from the warehouse?** ”

“ ** _Six times,_** ” Batman replied flatly, “ ** _and I’ll deal with them for however long I have to until they’re locked away for good._** ”

“ **And in the meantime, how many innocents will be caught in the crossfire? How many more young women will Victor Zsasz butcher for his sick pleasure?** ” Green Arrow asked bluntly. “ **There comes a time when giving a chance to atone isn’t worth it.** ”

“ ** _If you truly wish to be accepted by the people, you’ll have to consider your tactics carefully, Green Arrow,_** ” Batman replied. “ ** _Use such brutal tactics too often, and you will never be what you aspire to be._** ”

“ **And what do I aspire to be?** ” Green Arrow asked.

“ ** _A hero,_** ” came the reply. “ ** _As to your request for aid… I will help, on one condition: no killing._** ”

“ **I can accept that,** ” Green Arrow replied. “ **But if the choice is between Laurel’s life and a Bratva thug’s, there’s no choice for me. Just so we’re clear.** ”

Batman gave a grim smile. “ ** _Believe me,_** ” he said, “ ** _they won’t even have_ time _to threaten her. Now, tell me the location._** ”

**_*DC*_ **

Dinah Laurel Lance struggled in the grip of the Russian thug who had abducted her as he forced her to her feet. “ _Get your hands off me, fucker!_ ” Laurel snarled through the gag that had been put in place to keep her quiet, a bruise forming alongside her jaw from where the bruiser hauling her to her feet had delivered a right hook when she had shouted at him about leaving her sister to die like that. Her arms were bound tightly behind her back at the wrists, and the bruiser was gripping her upper arm tightly as he hauled her towards the front of the plane. He hauled her, bent halfway forward, down the stairs, where Anatoli Knyasev was waiting with over twenty men, a group of SUVs forming a crescent around the plane.

“Ah,” said Anatoli. “The infamous Laurel Lance. Oliver told me much of you. Showed me picture once. Did not have time to tell you this last we met, but you are much more beautiful in person.” He turned to the man holding Laurel. “Remove gag.”

“She has mouth, Pakhan,” the Russian said.

“I have heard worse,” Anatoli said. The Russian turned and undid the gag, pulling the cloth he had stuffed into Laurel’s mouth to silence her out in the process.

Laurel worked her jaw a moment, moistening her mouth, and then spat directly in Anatoli’s face, earning a backhand from the ape holding onto her. “That’s what I think of your hospitality, you bastard,” she sneered through her pain, her lip bloody. “Do you think sending three assholes to beat the shit out of me and kill my sister is going to make Oliver do what you want? He’s going to _destroy_ you for this! I hope I’m there when he puts an arrow in your black heart!”

Anatoli’s expression had been amused at being spat on, but he lost his humor at her words. He turned to the man holding her. “Sara Lance is dead?” he asked.

“She gave no choice,” the Russian replied. “If I had not shot her, I would not be here.”

“Sara Lance save my life along with Oliver Queen,” Anatoli spat. “How did you kill her?”

“Two slugs in stomach,” the Russian said confusedly. Anatoli pulled a pistol from beneath his suit jacket, aimed at the man’s stomach, and fired twice. The man stumbled back, falling to the ground.

“You were to leave Sara Lance _alive_ ,” Anatoli said coldly. “If I must make example of you, so be it. I will not be disobeyed.”

Laurel was shocked at the fact Anatoli had killed her captor for killing Sara. “Why?” she asked.

“Is not your place to understand,” Anatoli said. “You are leverage on Oliver. He will bring Bertinelli woman to me now or lose woman he loves.”

“Oliver will put the city first, even before me,” Laurel said. “He won’t risk this mob war worsening by kidnapping Helena Bertinelli for you. Not even for me. Your leverage isn’t that great, Anatoli.”

“If that is so,” Anatoli said, cupping Laurel’s chin and forcing her to meet his eyes, “then you will be given to brothers. We will give you drugs and break your will until you pleasure us. Your pain and suffering will be his undoing.” Laurel felt a chill go down her spine, especially as she saw the looks in the eyes of the men around her. One man, who had only one hand, had a particularly vicious grin as he eyed her up and down, undressing her with his eyes and planning what he would do to her body when he had her at his mercy. Despite her conviction to stand strong in the face of whatever came her way, Laurel shivered involuntarily before glaring defiantly at the man. She wouldn’t show weakness to these _pigs_.

The _thwift_ of a bow firing heralded the arrival of a magnetic arrow, which pulled all the weapons from the men in the room. A pair of explosive arrows were fired into the center of the weapons, damaging them so they couldn’t be used. Green Arrow dropped down from the rafters of the hangar, landing in a crouch before rising. “ **This was a mistake, Anatoli,** ” Green Arrow said. “ **I held back before for the sake of the friendship we shared. But kidnapping children, abducting Laurel, shooting Sara and leaving her for dead? That crosses a line even you aren’t allowed to cross with me.** ” Green Arrow surged forward, meeting the first two Bratva thugs, and more moved forward to intercept the vigilante while Anatoli grabbed Laurel by the arm and started dragging her towards the SUVs.

“While Oliver fights brothers, we will leave,” Anatoli informed Laurel.

“Fuck you,” Laurel snarled and tried to knee Anatoli in the balls. Anatoli sidestepped neatly and then slapped her across the face.

“Be very careful,” he said. “I am only thing standing between you and heroine needle. You would be wise to not test me.” He turned back to the SUVs, dragging the struggling Laurel forward, and then stopped as a figure in black dropped from the rafters and landed in front of them.

Batman rose into a standing position, blue eyes meeting first Laurel’s and then Anatoli’s. “ ** _You won’t be taking the woman anywhere, Knyasev,_** ” Batman said.

“So, Oliver has found other playmate,” Anatoli snarled. “Changes nothing! We will be getting out of here, or Miss Lance gets knife in throat!” Anatoli pulled a hunting knife from beneath his suit coat and held it tightly against Laurel’s throat, causing her to freeze in her struggles, her breathing ragged as the blade cut into her skin, causing a trickle of blood to make it’s way down her neck.

Batman acted, throwing a batarang at Anatoli’s hand and catching him in the wrist. Anatoli reflexively let the knife drop, and Laurel wasted no time, rearing back and smashing her head against Anatoli’s nose, forcing him to let go of her. Laurel rushed away as best she could, seeking shelter from the fight. “You have only made this worse for her,” Anatoli informed Batman as he sank into a fighter’s crouch, “and for yourself.”

“ ** _You’re not a threat, Knyasev,_** ” Batman said with a grim smile. “ ** _You’re practice._** ” Batman flung another batarang, slicing at Anatoli’s left arm. Anatoli glanced at the scratch and passed it off as nothing, until he tried to move forward, and began to stumble. “ ** _Tetrodotoxin, courtesy of our emerald friend,_** ” Batman informed the Russian mob boss. He walked past Anatoli, cape fluttering behind him, as he aimed to take the Russians from behind and provide support for Green Arrow, who was being overwhelmed.

Laurel crouched behind a crate, watching the battle with wide eyes. She had no idea who the other guy was, but he was as well-armed and armored as her boyfriend was. She watched as Green Arrow took down three men while the man in the black armor drove at the Russians hard from behind, using some very brutal tactics that left the Russians moaning messes in his wake. _Ollie’s not as bad as this guy, even if he kills sometimes,_ Laurel thought to herself. Her green eyes narrowed as she took in the fighting Russians. Where was the one-handed man?

Someone grabbed her by her hair and dragged her backwards, throwing her on the ground, eliciting a yelp of pain from Laurel. She looked up and found the man in question standing there there. “Pakhan take my hand because of Oliver Queen,” the one-handed man said. “I take Queen’s heart in payment.” He raised his gun, but Laurel kicked it out of his hands, sending it skittering across the ground. She delivered three forward kicks to the one-handed man’s groin and then, when he collapsed to his knees looking like he was about to vomit, she delivered a similar set of kicks to his face. The one-handed man collapsed to the ground, unconscious. Laurel struggled to her feet and moved positions, only to find the fight was over, with Green Arrow delivering a knockout blow to the last man. **_*3*_**

Laurel moved on shaky legs to Green Arrow, who met her halfway and took her shoulders in his hands, looking her over with concern in his blue eyes. Then he pulled her into a hug, cutting her bonds with a dart as he did so. Laurel’s arms slipped from her bonds and she wrapped her arms around Green Arrow’s torso, burying her face in his shoulder. Green Arrow’s right hand moved up and rested on the back of her head comfortingly. “ **It’s alright, Laurel,** ” Green Arrow said softly. “ **You’re safe now.** ”

“ ** _We should have the S.C.P.D. clean this up,_** ” said her second rescuer.

“Who are you?” she asked. He said nothing.

“ **Ever heard of Gotham’s Batman?** ” Green Arrow asked with a nod in the man’s direction.

“No, I haven’t,” Laurel replied. She looked at Batman. “Is there a reason for that?”

“ ** _Yes,_** ” Batman replied, but didn’t elaborate. He turned to look at Green Arrow. “ ** _We should go. The police can make sure she gets medical attention._** ”

Green Arrow reluctantly pulled away from Laurel and activated his comms. “ **Contact the S.C.P.D. Let them know they can find the Bratva’s Pakhan and his top lieutenants in Hangar 52 at Starling International,** ” he said.

“Will do, boss,” Fyff replied over the comms. Green Arrow took Laurel’s hands in his, and she winced as her right wrist twisted slightly.

“ **What is it?** ” he asked.

“It’s nothing, you need to go before airport security gets here ahead of the police,” Laurel said, reaching up and touching Green Arrow’s face. “I’ll see you at the hospital.”

“ **I’ll be there as soon as I get official word, from you or your father,** ” Green Arrow promised. He turned and left with the Batman. Laurel watched them go, an odd thought coming to her mind as she did so, as though the world itself was changing. When not one but two vigilantes fought for justice in corrupt cities, that had to mean something, right?

**_*DC*_ **

Green Arrow and Batman stood on a rooftop, watching the police and the F.B.I. approaching the airport. “ **Thank you for your help,** ” Green Arrow said softly. “ **I don’t know that I could have done it alone and kept her safe.** ”

“ ** _You care about her,_** ” Batman observed. Green Arrow nodded. “ ** _Then do what is best to protect her. Stay away from her. In this line of work, loved ones will always be the target of those we face. It is better to love them from afar, but never be with them, then to hold them close as they bleed out._** ”

“ **You’re not the first person I’ve spoken with today whose told me to stay away from her,** ” Green Arrow replied.

“ ** _Sounds like a smart man,_** ” Batman replied. “ ** _I do not wish to see what you become if you lose the woman you love, Mr. Queen._** ”

Green Arrow wasn’t surprised Batman had figured out his identity. They had both been listening to Anatoli and Laurel’s conversation, and the man under the cowl knew that the gear Green Arrow used cost a pretty penny. “ **Speaking from personal experience… Mr. Wayne?** ” Batman stirred slightly at the knowledge Green Arrow was aware of his identity. “ **We both know how costly these kinds of crusades are. It didn’t take much to realize who you were.** ”

“ ** _I knew I had to choose between my city and my love, Green Arrow,_** ” Batman said finally. “ ** _So will you, if you don’t do the smart thing and walk away from her. It may hurt her in the short-term, but she’ll be alive._** ” Green Arrow said nothing, knowing an explanation on Novu would be wasted on a man who dealt with mentally ill criminals. “ ** _With the Bratva broken, the Bertinellis will seize control of the criminal underworld in Starling,_** ” Batman observed. “ ** _Are you prepared for that?_** ”

“ **I am,** ” Green Arrow replied. “ **They won’t be able to seize total control. There is another, a man who holds the criminal underworld in his grip. His organization controls the city from the shadows.** ”

“ ** _This is the enemy you’re fighting in this city,_** ” Batman mused. Green Arrow nodded. “ ** _With the Bratva defeated, the Bertinellis will have no need for Zsasz and his men. But I was serious about the project I brought to you. I believe we can bring about a golden age._** ”

“ **Then let’s leave it to those better-suited for such negotiations,** ” Green Arrow said. “ **I have to go and be ready for the call that my girlfriend is in the hospital. It’s been an experience, Batman, but let’s not do it again anytime soon.** ” Green Arrow turned and leaped down off the roof, using the fire escapes on either side of the alley as leaping points to reach the alley itself. He got on his bike and left the Dark Knight watching from the rooftops.

 _Somehow, I don’t think that will be a problem,_ Batman mused. He doubted there would be much call for them to mix company. This had been a temporary, if fruitful, alliance. **_*4*_**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter.
> 
> Chapter Notes:
> 
> *1* Sadly, things are not going to get patched up between Tommy and Oliver. It is most likely that Tommy will take his father’s mantle one day.
> 
> *2* The world is changing, Detective Sawyer…
> 
> *3* Alexi’s really been put through the ringer in this arc, hasn’t he? Wrench to the face, punch to the face, now three kicks to the face and balls? On another note, I wanted Laurel to have a win after putting her through so much and felt this would be a good first step towards her becoming the kick-ass vigilante she was born to be.
> 
> *4* So, they’re not exactly friends, but they’re not at each other’s throats, either. I suppose that’s the best I can hope for with this version of Batman and Green Arrow.


	43. Recovery

Quentin Lance pulled his daughter into a hug as she sat on the hospital bed in the emergency room, where she was being treated for her latest ordeal. “I am getting tired of seeing you in a hospital bed,” he told her.

“I’m getting tired of being in one,” Laurel quipped, but her voice was shaky.

“Don’t try to be brave, Laurel,” Quentin said, pulling back and meeting his daughter’s green eyes. “I know you think you gotta because of how I’ve been the past five years, but you don’t need to put up a brave front for me anymore. It’s okay to show that you’re hurting.”

Laurel’s lip trembled. “Dad, there’s something you need to know, about when I was taken,” she began, not sure how to tell her father that her sister had been murdered by the Bratva.

“Sara’s alive, Laurel,” Quentin said, and Laurel’s face instantly became hopeful. Quentin smiled at his eldest as he said, “Your sister’s a fighter. Managed to call 911 despite getting shot. They got two of the bastards who attacked you.”

“Must’ve been Sara who put them down, because I didn’t,” Laurel said ruefully. “The man who shot her… the head of the Bratva killed him.”

“Why?” Quentin asked, perplexed.

“Said something about making an example,” Laurel said, trying at lying with the truth. By the way her father’s eyes narrowed slightly, she needed to work at it still. How did Oliver make it look so easy? “Dad, could you give Ollie a call? I’d really like him to be here.”

“Laurel, you’re getting checked over, and then you’ll be released,” Quentin said. “The hospital’s got a lot of rooms full because of this mob war, though thank Christ that’s over. The Bratva can’t continue with most of them, including the boss of the whole damned organization, rounded up. What the hell happened there tonight, anyways? I find it hard to believe anyone, even the Green Arrow, could’ve done all this on his own.”

“He wasn’t alone,” Laurel said. Quentin’s eyebrows popped up. “Did you know there’s a vigilante from Gotham? They call him the Batman.”

“Why the hell would a vigilante from Gotham show up here? Did they know each other?” Quentin asked.

“I don’t know, Daddy,” Laurel said. “All I know is this Batman stopped Knyasev from killing me. Whatever else he is, he’s a hero, like Green Arrow.”

“They are not heroes, they’re anarchists,” Quentin said. “You working with him is what got you into this mess. Or didn’t you work that out?”

“I knew that’s why this was happening,” Laurel acknowledged. “But it doesn’t mean that what Green Arrow is doing isn’t heroic.”

“Let’s not argue,” Quentin said tiredly. “I’m guessing you want to stay with Queen?”

“Yes,” Laurel said softly. Quentin sighed but didn’t say anything. He knew any talk about her love life would see his daughter shut him out completely, even if he thought he had valid concerns about the fact that she seemed fixated on having a relationship with one of her two billionaire best friends. She thought he didn’t know about her and Merlyn Jr., but of course he knew; it was part of the reason he had been drinking so much over the past five years. Not only had he lost one daughter thanks to one of those billionaire bastards, but the other one had started sniffing around his eldest now that his best friend was out of the way. But it was her life, in the end. He just hoped she didn’t get hurt again.

“I’ll call him, let him know to expect you,” Quentin said softly. He stepped out of the room as the doctor entered.

**_*DC*_ **

Oliver Queen was pacing up and down his loft, waiting for Laurel and her father to arrive. He could tell at the hangar that she was hurting, that she had been hurt badly by those apes that Anatoli had sent after her. Oliver’s heart ached at the thought of what she had been through, including the fact that she believed Sara had been killed trying to protect her. He knew what that would do to Laurel, having someone she cared about killed or injured severely because of her. He would need to keep an eye on her, make sure she didn’t go down the path she had when Tommy died in the previous timeline. He wouldn’t lose her to addiction; he wouldn’t!

There was a knock at the door, and Oliver broke off from his pacing and went to it, opening it swiftly to find Laurel and Quentin on the other side. He stepped aside and swung the door open silently, watching Laurel quickly. She was moving gingerly, and one of her wrists was bandaged, as was the side of her neck, where Anatoli had held a blade to her throat. The way she hugged her arms to her side indicated she was trying to protect a vulnerability there, possibly broken ribs. Oliver felt a flash of hate for Anatoli that he had never felt before for anyone aside from one man: Damien Darhk, the man who had taken Laurel from him the first time around. “Laurel,” Oliver said softly, putting an arm around her shoulder and guiding her towards the couch. “You’re safe here.”

“I know, Ollie,” Laurel said softly as she settled on the couch. Quentin stood by uncomfortably. Laurel looked at him. “It’s okay, Dad. I know you have to help process everything from the hangar. You can go.”

“You be careful with yourself, you’ve been hurt pretty bad,” Quentin said. “And one of you call Merlyn Jr., ask about what needs to be done to transport Sara here to Starling General. I don’t like her being in that hospital all alone.”

“We will, Detective,” Oliver promised. “In fact, I’ll see to it personally.”

“Thanks, Queen,” Quentin said after a moment, and there was genuine gratefulness in his voice. He gave Laurel a quick hug, avoiding her ribs, and then left the loft.

Oliver sat down on the couch beside Laurel. “So, based on what I’m seeing… sprained or broken wrist, broken ribs, probably a mass of bruises on your body, a shallow cut to your neck, and you were strangled,” Oliver said flatly, looking at the finger-shaped bruises around Laurel’s slender neck, once more feeling that flash of hatred for Anatoli and, in part, for himself.

“Hairline fracture on the wrist, three broken ribs, I am pretty bruised, and yes, I was strangled by the man Anatoli shot,” Laurel rasped out. Oliver hated how raspy her voice sounded; it was as though she were still being strangled in front of him, everything sounding like she was trying to speak while being strangled. Laurel noticed the way fury flashed through his eyes and put her uninjured hand on his cheek. He met her eyes. “I’m okay, Ollie,” Laurel said softly, pitching her voice lower so it sounded more like normal instead of the rasp she currently had thanks to her bruised throat.

“No, you’re not,” Oliver said, self-hatred coursing through him, his mind going back to what both Batman and Tommy had said. His eyes shone with raw emotion as he looked at her battered form. “If you weren’t with me, this wouldn’t be happening. You wouldn’t be in this state.”

“No, I wouldn’t be,” Laurel said agreeably, shocking Oliver. “I’d be _dead_ if not for you three times over. I knew what getting involved with you meant, Oliver. You warned me right from the beginning that if your enemies learned who you were that they would use me against you. I knew the risks and I decided to take them, because in the end, I _love_ you. I love Oliver Queen, the compassionate, caring man whose heart is so huge, he wants to save this city from what it’s become, the man who throws himself into danger for strangers who’ve never seen his face because he cares about what happens to the people of this city. That is the man I always saw in you. That is the man I fell in love with. That is the man that I willingly took on these risks for.” Laurel reached out with her left hand and placed it alongside Oliver’s right cheek. He leaned into her touch, closing his eyes. “I can tell something’s eating at you, Ollie. What is it?” **_*1*_**

“Both Tommy and Batman told me I should break up with you, to protect you,” Oliver said. “Tommy even threatened to expose me as Green Arrow.”

“He did _what?_ ” Laurel demanded her tone icy. _Oh, that man is going to get the sharp side of my tongue!_ she thought viciously. “I hope you told them both to go to hell.”

“I told Tommy that he could do that, and they would never catch me, but it would leave you vulnerable,” Oliver said. “That shut him up. Batman said he learned that he had to decide between his city and his love. I guess I’m just wondering if one day I’ll have to do that again.” He placed his own left hand against Laurel’s cheek. “I don’t want to hurt you again, but what if one day there’s no choice? What if one day, a sadistic bastard comes along with the impossible choice? I told Tommy that if that day ever came, I would find a way to save both you and the city, but I worry about when it comes nonetheless.”

“Oliver, you just ended a _mob war_ that threatened hundreds of innocent lives,” Laurel said softly. “Stop worrying and enjoy the fact that we’re both alive and safe after all that’s happened.”

Oliver sighed. “I know I should,” he said quietly. “It’s just… Sometimes I wonder what the point of being Green Arrow is, if I can’t even protect the woman I love from my enemies.”

“You _did_ protect me, Ollie,” Laurel said softly.

“Not for long enough, and worse, I got Sara shot,” Oliver said. “Which reminds me… I’m paying for all her medical expenses, no matter what your father thinks. She was only hurt because I put it on her to keep you and Tommy and Thea safe from Anatoli and his men.” Oliver looked down. “Knowing she was almost killed is going to haunt me, Laurel.” Especially since he remembered how many times Sara had died or come close to it in the future.

“I understand, Ollie, and I know it’ll make my Dad think something else is going on, but I trust you,” Laurel said. “I know you won’t hurt me like that again.”

“No, I won’t,” Oliver promised softly. He cupped her chin and leaned in. She let him guide her forward until their lips met, her unbandaged hand circling his head and ruffling the hair on the back of his head as she deepened their kiss. Oliver’s hands avoided her ribs as he drew her in closer, leaning back on the couch. Laurel tossed her hair to the side as she came up for a breath of air.

“On the couch, Ollie?” she asked teasingly. “So bold…”

**_*DC*_ **

Malcolm Merlyn scowled as he set his phone down. That had been Silas Cole, his contact within the S.C.P.D. According to Cole, Brickwell was going to be moved to Slabside along with Anatoli Knyasev, the Pakhan of the Russian Bratva, and the transport would have a full tactical escort to ensure there was no chance of Knyasev being freed. This meant that Malcolm would have no chance to intercept the transport and take care of Brickwell en route, and worse, they were going to Slabside, where Malcolm held no sway, it being a federal penitentiary. He would have to depend on contracting for Brickwell’s murder inside. It gnawed at him that he would have to trust his vengeance to criminal filth, but the idea of leaving Rebecca’s murderer breathing was far more galling than the idea of associating, however peripherally, with the criminal filth that would do the deed. So long as the person chosen gave Brickwell the message that this was for Rebecca, that would have to be enough.

For now, there were _other_ matters to consider. The Green Arrow had been the one to bring the Bratva-Bertinelli conflict to an end rather than the Starling City Police Department. Malcolm now deeply regretted not unshackling the police department when the Green Arrow had asked him to, because as a result, Green Arrow was even more of a folk hero, or soon would be, and while Nudocerdo would wish to pursue Green Arrow and prosecute him to the fullest extent of the law, Malcolm was beginning to doubt the S.C.P.D. would be as eager. Green Arrow was doing what they hadn’t been allowed to do for years, and many on the force probably supported the vigilante in secret. The fact that no one but Nudocerdo seemed to complain about the complicity of Special Agent in Charge Trimble working with the vigilante was a testament to this fact.

There was also the fact that according to Cole, there had been _another_ vigilante at work in the city tonight, one who was as theatrical or more so than Green Arrow. The Batman of Gotham. Malcolm had heard the rumors, of course, but he hadn’t given it much stock because the rumors he heard sounded like the League’s dealings, albeit with no lethality. He found it unlikely that any member of the League would be allowed to walk free and use their skills so amateurly, not even killing their targets. No, it was possible that this Batman was like Green Arrow and had been trained by a former member of the League such as Talia al Ghul or Damien Darhk. No matter. Batman was likely only here because of the involvement of some of Carmine Falcone’s best men in recent skirmishes. Now that the mob war was at it’s end, they would leave, and the Batman with them, which left Green Arrow to deal with.

On other fronts… Simon Stagg would soon be pulling his funding from C.N.R.I., leaving the legal aid office floundering, and in the aftermath of a mob war, it was likely very few would attend a fundraiser for it, even one thrown by Oliver Queen, as Oliver had announced at that dinner party a couple of weeks back. That would cut off one avenue the scum in the Glades had to ‘better’ their lives.

Word had it that Bruce Wayne had arrived in Starling City and met with Oliver on the subject of a joint project between Queen Consolidated and Wayne Enterprises. Malcolm would have to keep an eye on that, especially since it meant Wayne would no longer be staying out of Starling City. Wayne was an idealist, like Oliver, who thought that simply providing new employment opportunities would be enough to fight crime and corruption. From what Malcolm knew, Thomas and Martha Wayne had been similarly idealistic, but that hadn’t stopped a robber from shooting them at point-blank range in front of their son. Still, two idealists offering employment opportunities could offer _hope_ to the scum that had stood by as Rebecca was murdered. If necessary, Malcolm would have to run interference on that as Al Sa-Her, sabotaging or killing where needed.

All in all, there were too few victories and far too many defeats in his war against the scum that inhabited the Glades. Something needed to be done to correct that. **_*2*_**

**_*DC*_ **

Sara Lance winced as she tried to shift so she was sitting up as the movement pulled at the sown-up incisions that had been made in order to retrieve the bullets. She had received a lot of wounds while working for the League of Assassins, almost all from bladed weapons such as knives, swords, and arrows. She had never been _shot_ before; when that goon pulled the gun, she had frozen like an idiot and paid the price for it. She was just glad that Laurel was safe; she had called a little while ago, saying she was back in Starling City and staying with Oliver, that the mob war was over. Sara had breathed easier (or as easy as she could with the pain that she was in from being shot) upon hearing that. Laurel had also told her that Oliver was arranging for her transport to Starling City where she would recover, and that Oliver was also insisting on covering all of her medical expenses.

Recover. That was an ugly word in Sara’s opinion. It meant she would be bed-ridden for potentially weeks while her body healed. She _hated_ feeling so weak, and she knew that Oliver was feeling guilty and that was why he was doing all of this. Sara was going to have to remind him that he had given her the option to go travel the world using her expense account before the mob war was in full force and she had decided to stay put in Metropolis for as long as her sister was there. **_*3*_**

Sara closed her eyes and opened them almost immediately again, having relived that moment when the Russian thug had drawn his weapon and shot her. Was this how life was going to be now? Was she always going to remember how she almost died? How she had failed to protect her sister from the Russians? She could still picture the scene as she walked in, her sister being held aloft, Laurel’s face a deep red from lack of air, her eyelids fluttering as she began to lose consciousness. This had been like a shock to Sara’s system. She understood now what it was Oliver was doing, why he was fighting Merlyn the way he was. There were _others_ who brought the sickness of crime and corruption to Starling City, and they were just as much a threat left unchecked as Merlyn could be.

She still didn’t know if she could do what Oliver did; she had spent so long working in the shadows as an assassin. She didn’t know if she could operate as openly as Oliver did. But maybe there was a way to do what he did from the shadows.

**_*DC*_ **

Tommy Merlyn looked out at the Metropolis skyline from the corporate apartments at Merlyn Global’s Metropolis location, a glass of brandy on the rocks in his hand, which he slowly sipped at as the sun crept over the horizon. He had spent a good chunk of the night comforting Thea, who was distraught at Sara’s shooting and Laurel’s kidnapping, and worrying over her brother’s safety as well against people who saw no problem with breaking into someone’s hotel room and doing the things that had been done to Laurel and Sara (as Sara had informed the police what had happened with Tommy nearby, and Tommy had told Thea when she pressed the matter). Oliver, Laurel, Sara… they had been his closest friends growing up, the only people that he could be himself with. But now they were like strangers, strangers wearing the faces of his friends like masks. Well, maybe not Laurel; she was still the same selfless, opinionated young woman with a desire to save the world that she had always been. But now that desire was seeing her get hurt and kidnapped and beaten and who knows what else, and there didn’t seem to be anything that Tommy could do to stop it without betraying his best friend.

That was the rub, Tommy reflected as the sun peeked over the Eastern horizon, bathing Metropolis in early morning light. There were no good choices in this situation. Either he betrayed his best friend, even though he would find a lawyer that would get Oliver the best deal possible and get him the help he needed instead of incarceration in a maximum security prison, or he did nothing and waited for something horrible to happen to either his best friend, the woman they both loved, or one of his other close childhood friends. He knew if he did the former that Oliver wouldn’t be the only one who felt betrayed. The Lance sisters would, too, and Tommy suspected the same would be said of Thea because while she wanted her other brother to stop this, she refused to think the only way to do that might be to let the authorities know who he was. But if he did the latter, than it could see him attending the funerals of his best friends, maybe even Sara, too, and this time it wouldn’t be a funeral because they were _believed_ dead, but because they _were_ dead.

Tommy thought back on what Thea had told him. There was something about his- _their_ father that had Oliver and Laurel seeing him as an enemy of some kind. Considering Oliver’s targets so far, Tommy could only assume his father had screwed over people big-time in Oliver’s mind and that his best friend was working up to confronting the head of Merlyn Global, knowing it would send shockwaves through Starling City for one of the city’s two biggest employers to be targeted by the Green Arrow. But what if there was something else? What if Oliver thought Malcolm was involved in something far more sinister? Would he do like he had done to James Holder and kill Tommy and Thea’s father, even knowing the pain of losing both of his own parents? It troubled Tommy that he couldn’t say for certain that his best friend would never do that.

What was he supposed to do? His best friend needed help and might even be targeting his father; but if he _did_ try to get Oliver help, who was to say that it would actually do something beyond make Oliver, Laurel, and Sara hate him? Could he live with their hate if it meant that Oliver got the help he needed, and the people Tommy cared about remained _alive_? Were their lives worth their hate? **_*4*_**

**_*DC*_ **

Oliver laid on his side in bed, propping a pillow between his left arm and his cheek, just staring at the woman lying beside him, the sunlight peering through the window and illuminating her form, her _bruised_ form. He hated seeing those deep, purple bruises on Laurel’s skin. Their time together last night had been brief; they hadn’t been able to go too far because of Laurel’s condition, and it had been the closest they had come to that since they got back together, despite sharing a bed frequently. But having her in his arms again had helped him salve his conscience and reminded him of just how much she meant to him and why he couldn’t do what either Tommy or Batman said. He didn’t know what all he would face in the future now that he had destroyed the timeline that he remembered, but he knew that whatever he faced, he could do it so long as he had this woman at his side.

Oliver was still staring at Laurel as her green eyes fluttered open and she looked around, smiling softly as she found him staring at her. “Morning,” she said softly, a bit of a yawn to her voice. “How long have you been awake?”

“A little while,” Oliver admitted.

“And you’ve been staring at me all this time?” Laurel asked.

“Just thinking of how much you mean to me, and how close I came to throwing that away because of Tommy and Batman preying on my doubts and fears,” Oliver said, reaching out his right hand and brushing his fingers over her cheek. She raised her left hand and caught his, pressing it against her cheek and holding it there. “You are the most important person in my life, Laurel. You are the other half of my soul.”

Laurel blinked as her eyes grew wet. “You’re spoiling me with all of this praise, Ollie,” she said, blushing.

“It’s not praise, it’s the truth,” Oliver said quietly, scooting forward. He reached out with his left hand and ran his fingers through Laurel’s long honey blonde hair. “You are so beautiful.”

“Ollie, if you keep going, I swear, I’m gonna get a complex,” Laurel said.

“I just want you to know how much you mean to me,” Oliver said, leaning forward and delivering a kiss to her forehead. “Now, you stay right here. I am going to fix you breakfast.”

“Ollie,” Laurel said as he got out of bed. He turned to face her. “You know that everything you say about me is true for me regarding you, right?”

Oliver smiled. “I know, Laurel,” he said. He grabbed his robe and headed for the door. **_*5*_**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter.
> 
> Chapter Notes:
> 
> *1* Another reason I had to take a break besides the risk of burnout was that I was beginning to get tunnel vision with this story and thinking the only option was breaking Oliver and Laurel up for a while. But conversations with Phillipe363 and Nyame helped me come to terms with what I needed to do and writing all the stories I have been lately helped me get rid of any lingering thoughts of that nature. As Nyame pointed out to me, Oliver left his WIFE for Laurel in this story. So, him deciding to break up with her, even with what Tommy and Batman put on him, wouldn’t have made sense.
> 
> *2* Oh, looks like the changes to the status quo are starting to get to Malcolm. But what will he do to, in his mind, correct the balance?
> 
> *3* Sara is a very independent woman and would hate being in a state where she might well have to depend on others for things, especially if its Laurel whose doing the caring since Sara feels she so utterly failed her sister.
> 
> *4* Tommy is struggling a great deal more with this stuff in this story than he did in canon because in canon, Oliver went out of his way to keep Laurel as far from his life as possible after the thing with Vanch and only rarely reached out before. But in this, Oliver is actively including Laurel and Sara, the other two members of Tommy’s close social circle, in his (in Tommy’s mind) insane life. That’s having a bad effect on Tommy’s mental state regarding Oliver’s choices.
> 
> *5* Got into the mood for both the previous Lauriver scene and this one by watching a music video for Lauriver titled “Already Gone” by theprincessandthepie.


	44. Back to Basics

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Okay, so I’m gonna have to go on hiatus with this story again because the next major arc is a really tricky one that I’m gonna need to make sure will work, because like with the mob war arc, I don’t want to be in the middle and end up finding myself trapped and having to delete chapters of work. This is also essentially the finale arc and will be a seriously long one, so I would guess it’ll be at least a month unless I get lucky. In the meantime, I will be writing and posting another story so readers can still get their dose of my work. I just haven’t decided what story that will be, or what pairing, aside from not being Oliver/Lance sister since I got one for each up at the moment.
> 
> This chapter is a good one to go on hiatus because it wraps up the remainder of the mob war arc and lays groundwork for the next one while being vague about the direction, which is good for me in case my plans for the next arc don't pan out.

Oliver Queen stood at parade rest looking out across Starling City from his office at Queen Consolidated. It had been a few days since the end of the mob war and there was still clean-up being done. The capture of Anatoli Knyasev had likely sent a shockwave through the Bratva worldwide, and Oliver imagined more than a few were questioning whether Anatoli could be the Pakhan while incarcerated in an American prison, especially one where they held no sway. Slabside’s underbelly was controlled by the Aryan Brotherhood, from what Oliver recalled from his time incarcerated there, and while they would be allies to the Bratva, they wouldn’t allow Anatoli free reign, either.

It was entirely possible that Oliver and Wayne had ended Anatoli’s career as the head of the international Bratva. Oliver couldn’t quite bring himself to care, considering the man had threatened the woman he loved with addiction and rape after three of his brutes had beat the hell out of her and shot her sister. Oliver thought Anatoli was rather lucky that Sara was still bed-ridden and would be for a while yet, because what little Laurel had told him of her sister’s imaginative punishments for Anatoli were nightmare-inducing. Sara may no longer be a member of the League, but she still had a mind for vengeance.

Oliver had patrolled each night as Green Arrow, keeping the peace on the streets in the aftermath of the mob war. Oliver had insisted Laurel be at the Bunker each night while he was on patrol; she would bring paperwork from C.N.R.I. and the cases she was allowed to work on (far fewer than she’d like since a good part of her job entailed politicking and the like) to go over while Oliver was out on patrol. Oliver had expected Laurel to complain a bit about his desire to keep her close, but he realized that what had happened with Sara and the beating she had taken at the hands of Anatoli’s thugs had shaken Laurel far more than she was willing to admit aloud. But like always, she was internalizing it. He made up for this by providing her breakfast in bed every morning and always being there when she needed someone to vent at, which had grown in frequency. Anything to keep her from turning to pain pills and alcohol to ease the feelings she was cycling through after her latest harrowing ordeal.

Of course, Laurel had been there for him just as much. He had woken up a couple of times from night terrors surrounding this latest bout of danger the woman he loved had been in. He had had nightmares of her tied to a bed, being pumped full of heroine and then gang-raped to punish him for his defiance of Anatoli’s decision to go ‘old school’ when it came to Helena Bertinelli. He had also had more than a couple of nightmares of when she had been dosed with Vertigo and, of course, the night that she was killed. Oliver knew that his shouting, if he spoke aloud, might confuse her, but she had never questioned anything that he might have said, just held him close as he brought his mind back under control with the meditation techniques that Talia and Ra’s had taught him.

The Restons had arrived in town and, thanks to an anonymous tip from Oliver, walked right into a sting operation that had sent all four of them heading for Iron Heights. The S.C.P.D. was exultant in their victory, and Oliver wasn’t going to argue as to who got the credit because while he appreciated the faith that the people of Starling City were showing in the Green Arrow after his performance during the mob war, he _couldn’t_ be everywhere at once. The people of the city needed to trust the S.C.P.D. to handle the common crimes that cropped up when Oliver couldn’t operate or where he wasn’t around. If they waited around for Oliver to swing down from the rooftops and save them, then some would suffer tragedies that could be avoided if they had just trusted in their _other_ guardians.

But Oliver knew that it was only natural for the people to put their faith in him over the S.C.P.D. It had been the same way in later years when he had operated more openly as he did now. The people wanted guardians who would _do_ something about the crime and corruption choking their city, and aside from a few good cops like Quentin Lance and Lucas Hilton, it seemed like the S.C.P.D. was full of bad apples.

Bruce Wayne was still in town but was due to leave tomorrow now that the deal between Queen Consolidated and Wayne Enterprises had been finalized. Oliver was pleased that such a prestigious contract had landed on Queen Consolidated during his time as C.E.O., and he knew Ned Foster was pleased with the way the situation had turned out. He had been slightly surprised that Wayne had been genuine in his belief that they could do good work together with their companies if nothing else. Oliver had half-expected Wayne to pack up and head back to Gotham City after the capture of Anatoli and his men, with an excuse of needing to reconsider his options before partnering with Oliver’s Applied Sciences division. But the deal had gone through, and that had seen a huge bump in Queen Consolidated’s stock as investors were very pleased with the partnership between the two companies.

Sara had been transferred to Starling General the day after everything went down and was still convalescing there. Oliver had been avoiding going there, certain that Sara would blame him for the state she was in. She had, after all, only been there to keep an eye on Laurel, Thea, and Tommy at Oliver’s request since she refused to do the traveling thing. Oliver knew that being bed-ridden for a couple of more weeks while her body began to heal and having to get back in shape would irritate the younger woman, because like him, she had trained herself to be in peak physical condition. But according to Laurel, Sara had been asking for him every time she went by, and Oliver knew he could only hide from Sara for so long. He decided he would go down there this evening before he went out on patrol.

Zsasz and his men had already returned to Gotham, and Oliver had received a message via courier from Frank Bertinelli that so long as he didn’t try to fight the takeover of Bratva business interests, they had no further quarrel. Oliver supposed that was the best he could hope for with his mob ties exposed to the likes of Bertinelli.

Oliver was pulled from his thoughts by his phone ringing. He pulled it out, sliding the green bar up, and held it to his ear, a smile on his face as the caller I.D. had read it was Laurel calling. “Hey,” he said softly. “How are you?”

“Not good, Ollie,” Laurel said with a sigh. “I just received a phone call from Stagg Industries. They’re pulling their funding from C.N.R.I. This is a huge blow, Ollie; it could see C.N.R.I. close it’s doors.”

“Well, as I recall, I promised to throw you one hell of a fundraiser,” Oliver said. “And I’ll personally cut a check for five million dollars, with some of that earmarked for upgrading C.N.R.I. so that you can digitize your client files. It would be horrible if you lost all of that work in a fire or something.”

“Thank you, Ollie, that’s really generous, but-”

“Laurel, this is one of those times you appreciate the fact that your boyfriend is a billionaire who wants to see his girlfriend succeed in her chosen career,” Oliver said with a smile. “I’m cutting that check, and I’m going to throw you that fundraiser, even if I have to hire the best private security firm in the city to safeguard the event to make people feel safe enough to come and pretend that they care for a few hours.”

“You know, you’re spoiling me with all of this,” Laurel half-complained. “I feel like you’re trying to make up for some big mistake you made like you used to do.”

“I am,” Oliver admitted, and Laurel gave a small gasp. “I’m trying to make up for the fact that I should’ve never sent you away. I should’ve kept you close, had you staying with me at the Bunker until this was all over. If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t be in the state you’re in and Sara wouldn’t be bed-ridden after getting shot twice.” **_*1*_**

“Oh, Ollie…” Laurel said softly. “How many times do I have to say it? It isn’t your fault. The fault lies with Anatoli Knyasev. You are not responsible for what happened to me, or what happened to Sara. _He_ is, and he’s going to pay for it. You need to let go of this guilt, Ollie. It’s not healthy.”

 _Yeah, that’s a bad habit of mine,_ Oliver thought grimly, but said nothing of the sort aloud. Instead, he uttered a quiet, “Maybe.”

“Definitely,” Laurel replied. “Maybe its time you find out if that therapist is trustworthy. You need someone to talk to, Ollie, someone who isn’t biased like I am to tell you that this isn’t your fault. Maybe if someone unbiased tells you that you’re putting too much on yourself, you’ll finally believe it.”

“I’ll think about it,” Oliver said. He turned at a knock on his door and saw Mark on the other side, Emiko standing nervously beside him. “Laurel, I’ve got to go. We’ll get together later and decide on the where and when of that fundraiser.”

“Alright, Ollie,” Laurel said softly. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Oliver returned and then hung up. He turned and waved Emiko and Mark in.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Queen, but she was quite insistent, and you don’t really have anything scheduled,” Mark began, but Oliver held up a hand.

“It’s alright, Mark, I’ve actually been expecting Miss Adachi for a while,” Oliver said. “You can go now. Emiko, why don’t you take a seat and we can talk about why you came here?” Mark left the room while Oliver took a seat behind his desk, Emiko sitting in one of the two chairs situated in front of it. “I assume that, since you’re here, you’re at least interested in the offer I made you.”

“That, and I want to see what the progress is on the accounts for my mother and I you promised,” Emiko said. “I know it’s been crazy in the city, so I understand if you haven’t got them handled yet.”

“I did, actually,” Oliver said, reaching into his desk and pulling out a manila envelope. “I was actually planning on stopping by your place later today to hand this off to you and your mother.” Oliver handed the envelope over to Emiko. “As I told you, those accounts are yours and your mother’s and will continue to be filled monthly for the rest of your lives, regardless of whether you choose to come onboard as head of Applied Sciences. I don’t want you to feel pigeon-holed into doing this, Emiko. While I want us to have a relationship, I _don’t_ want it to be based on you feeling you owe me for anything. You don’t because your _family_.”

“You confuse me, Oliver,” Emiko said softly. “You just landed a huge contract for Applied Sciences if the business section of the _Daily Star_ is anything to go by, and yet you’re more interested in making sure I know that I don’t owe you anything and if I come onboard, you want it to be my choice and not because I feel I owe you. Do you realize what this means to me? To have you accept me, offer me a job here, and seemingly do it with no strings attached?”

“I have some idea of what it means, Emiko,” Oliver said softly, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his desk, steepling his fingers. “I know that getting that degree of yours can’t have been easy, and I know that the only reason you’d push yourself so hard would be to get our father’s approval. I know I’m not him, but I’m still family, and I hope you understand that to me, that’s all that really matters. If you choose to work with me, I’ll welcome your help. I can always use one more ally here at Queen Consolidated. But I know that that’s going to need to be your choice. So, is this truly what you want? Or do you want more time to think it over?”

Emiko was silent for a moment before she said, “Oliver, working here, being accepted as a Queen… it’s all I’ve ever wanted. You’re offering everything I ever dreamed of, and you want nothing in return but to be a family. How could I refuse such an offer?”

“Then welcome aboard,” Oliver said. “Let me call legal, and they can bring up the contracts. I had them drawn up, just in case. I think you’ll find the terms more than fair.” Oliver snatched up the phone to make the call, all while wondering if this was truly Emiko’s decision or if Dante had seen an opportunity to make her even more valuable to the Ninth Circle, seeing as the head of Applied Sciences would be working directly with the WayneTech team. **_*2*_**

**_*DC*_ **

Sara Lance scowled as she flipped through the channels available on the television in her room at Starling General. It was all daytime soap operas and reality TV, none of which interested her one bit. Sara turned off the television with a sigh, dropping the remote on her right side and trying to shift slightly. Pain still lanced through her, and she gave a hiss. Anatoli was damned lucky that he was in prison, safe from her wrath. But that was okay; there were still plenty of Bratva thugs running around leaderless, most like; she could hunt them down when she was feeling better and exact a little vengeance using them as surrogates. They’d live, of course; at least she thought they might. It depended on how she was feeling in the moment when the time came to make that decision.

Sara’s gaze was drawn to the door, and she gave a soft smile as she recognized the silhouette of the man standing there. “Ollie,” she said warmly. “I thought Laurel was going to have to drag you down here.”

Oliver stepped into the light and, after an uncomfortable moment while he stared at her guiltily, took the seat beside her bed. “I’m so sorry, Sara,” Oliver said quietly. “If I hadn’t of asked you to-”

“I’m gonna stop you right there, Ollie,” Sara said, holding up a hand, and Oliver drew in his chin in consternation. “You actually offered for me to use that expense account you gave me and travel the world instead of staying around Metropolis. You never once actually _asked_ me to guard Laurel, Tommy, and Thea. I _decided_ to stay in Metropolis and keep an eye on them all on my own, especially after I heard it was Anatoli you were fighting. I remembered him from the _Amazo_ , and just how vindictive he was with Anthony.” A shadow fell over Sara’s face at the remembrance of Ivo. “So, I knew what could potentially happen. If anyone’s at fault in this, it’s me; I should’ve have had that damn Thai food delivered instead of going to get it myself. If I had, I would’ve been there when those bastards pushed their way in, and things would’ve gone a lot differently.”

Oliver blinked at the onslaught of words from a woman who could be as taciturn as he could. “But-” he managed.

“But nothing,” Sara said. “The only one who is to blame here is Anatoli for sending those goons, and me for freezing. You didn’t expect Anatoli to reach out to members of the Bratva in Metropolis. All you are guilty of is believing your friend still had some honor. That is not something to feel guilty about, Ollie. It’s a testament to the kind of man you are, the man this city needs to be its champion while Ra’s is watching.”

Oliver sighed. “Your sister told me the same thing,” he mumbled.

“And since she’s smarter than both of us, seeing as she actually went to college to learn and got her law degree, you should probably listen to her,” Sara said, and any other time, she might’ve added a teasing lilt to her voice. But she didn’t want Oliver to dismiss this as teasing. “You are not to blame, and if both Laurel and I are telling you that, maybe it’s time to accept it.”

“Fine, but I’m still paying your medical bills, and that expense account is yours, period,” Oliver said. “Give it to the poor if you want. But I won’t take it back.”

“Fine,” Sara said with a shrug. “It’ll help in getting a place of my own when I get outta here, cuz Dad doesn’t have room and you and Laurel are all lovey-dovey. I think I’d drown in gooeyness if I stayed with you or her.”

“We’re not that bad,” Oliver said.

“Yes, you are,” Sara said.

Oliver sighed. “Why not stay with your Mom in Central City? She would definitely have the room and she wants to spend more time with you, or at least that’s the impression I got from what Laurel told me about when you left the courthouse.”

“What happened with those Russians helped me realized just how much Laurel needs me here,” Sara said seriously. “She asked me to train her. I refused, and then we got attacked by the Russians. If she knew the stuff I did, she would’ve been able to hold those bastards off, if not beat them back, when they came for her. I may not be in the best situation to train her actively through sparring, but the first thing she needs to learn is the meditation techniques. And I can do that sitting on my ass.”

“She’s lucky to have you as a teacher,” Oliver said. He chuckled. “So, she’s going to be learning the League’s fighting style from you, A.S.I.S. hand-to-hand from me, and boxing from Ted Grant. She’s turning into quite the renaissance warrior.” Oliver couldn’t help but say it with some degree of relief. Laurel wasn’t going to be relying on just one method of self-defense, which could hopefully mean she was open-minded about getting the magical protection once he arranged everything with John Constantine. The one possible sticking point was that while her Earth-2 doppelganger had had no aversion to tattoos, _his_ Laurel had never gotten one in her life and always seen them as diminishing to her wholesome nature or something. It would take a bit of discussion to get her to accept the protection, he thought, but if she was willing to use so many different fighting styles, maybe convincing her to get the magical protection to guard against the likes of Darhk would go off without a hitch. “So, how are things here at Starling General?” **_*3*_**

“Don’t. Ask,” Sara said shortly.

**_*DC*_ **

“So, what’s on the agenda tonight, boss?” Henry Fyff asked as Oliver finished suiting up. “More patrolling?”

“Last night was pretty dead,” Oliver said. “You’ve been tracking some of the names I gave you?”

“Yeah,” Fyff said. “Want a simple one?”

“Why not?” Oliver said with a shrug.

“Okay,” Fyff said. “Daniel Hollinger. He targets low-income families with get rich quick schemes, and then when they’re seriously in debt, a debt collection agency he just happens to own takes over their accounts and presses them further.”

“Sounds like the perfect warm-up to get me back into the spirit of things now that the mob war is over and dealt with,” Oliver said. “Send the details to my bike.”

“Will do, boss,” Fyff said.

**_*DC*_ **

Whistling to himself, Daniel Hollinger entered his apartment, ready to spend another night wooing some of the more pliable of the opposite sex online. If you made enough, they didn't care how much of an asshole you were, and Hollinger had long ago decided that he wasn't going to let himself get involved with anyone seriously because that was just too much risk. These days, with all these feminist types running the show, he'd be lucky to end up with a dime to his name. Still, it wasn't a complete loss not having to deal with the stress of having a family.

Hollinger's thoughts were interrupted by the creak of the hardwood floor in his kitchen. As he looked up, he found himself facing the armored figure of the Green Arrow. “W-What do you want?” Hollinger squeaked out.

“ **Daniel Hollinger, you have _failed_ this city,**” Green Arrow said, nocking an arrow and firing it past Hollinger’s head, slicing his cheek in the process. Hollinger yelped and pressed a hand to his cheek to stem the blood, even as he became minutely aware of a sickly wet feeling trickling it’s way down his right leg. “ **You prey on those who are desperate to turn their lives around, Hollinger, ensuring they can never pay back the debts they owe you and then you squeeze them for more. You're going to transfer twenty million dollars into Starling City Liberty Trust Account 1141. You have twenty-four hours. After that, I’m going to just take it, and you won't like how I do it.** ”

The Emerald Archer vanished, and Hollinger collapsed. He briefly considered calling the police, then remembered how many people who had been visited by the Green Arrow had been prosecuted by those same cops. It was a fool’s errand to try and get police to help him, because there was no guarantee they wouldn’t just let Green Arrow walk on in and do whatever it was he planned to do. He was better off doing what the vigilante asked and then moving somewhere that didn’t have a psychotic running around like Robin Hood. Metropolis, maybe? **_*4*_**

**_*DC*_ **

“Hollinger folded really quick, boss,” Fyff reported as Oliver entered the Bunker, hood and mask down. “He’s already transferred the money, and I’m working on redistributing those funds right now.”

“Excellent work, Henry,” Oliver replied, grabbing his clothes and heading behind the curtain to change. A few minutes later he re-emerged, clad in the business suit he had been wearing. He moved to the table where Laurel was looking through potential venues. “Any luck on making that decision?”

“I really like _this_ one,” Laurel said, finger pointing to the location. Oliver peered down at where she was pointing, putting one hand on her shoulder. “But I dunno about the cost…”

“Laurel, I am footing the bill on this, remember?” Oliver said. “Nothing connected to this fundraiser will be paid for out of C.N.R.I.’s pocket.”

“Ollie, you don’t have to keep doing this because you feel guilty,” Laurel said.

“It’s not just that,” Oliver said with a shake of his head. “C.N.R.I. is an important part of bringing this city back from the crime and corruption that Merlyn has sown. Your office is the only bastion of legal aid for so many of these people. They need the hope that C.N.R.I. gives them. If I have to blow a couple of million dollars on a fundraiser, so be it. I’m going to make sure you get the best possible turnout from this, Laurel. You’re important to me, and C.N.R.I. is important to this city. That makes making this fundraiser happen one of the most important things in my life right now, just like you are the most important person in my life.”

“Alright, Ollie,” Laurel sighed, leaning back against him. “That just leaves the caterer, security, and guest list.”

“The guest list will take care of itself, Laurel,” Oliver said with a smile. “No one’s going to miss the first big charitable debut that Oliver Queen throws.”

“What if Merlyn does something?” Laurel said, worrying her lower lip.

“Like what?”

“Like, I don’t know, sends mercenaries or a bunch of bandits or something to rob everyone, pays off the security to ignore the threat?” Laurel said.

“Laurel, Merlyn has been playing this game for a long time,” Oliver said. “He’s not going to do something that overt. In fact, I’d bet Simon Stagg pulling his funding was Merlyn’s doing to begin with. C.N.R.I. represents hope to the people he holds guilty for standing by and watching his wife murdered. He would want to destroy it, just as he’ll want to shut down his wife’s clinic out of some twisted sentimentality.” Oliver began rubbing her shoulders. “Everything is going to be fine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter.
> 
> Chapter Notes:
> 
> *1* Oliver and his guilt complex no know bounds.
> 
> *2* So, there’s a question: Is Emiko doing this because she wants to, or because Dante wants her to?
> 
> *3* So, Laurel’s well on her way to becoming Black Canary by learning multiple forms of combat. As to the thing about the tattoos, with Earth-1 Laurel they had Katie cover up hers, which indicates they wanted Laurel to come across as very wholesome, which tattoos generally don’t send the message of.
> 
> *4* I kind of lifted this particular List candidate from my old Season 3 rewrite.


	45. Charity Gala

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So, didn’t take a month after all. I am pleased to say that “Rise” is officially complete and all that’s left is to post the chapters. I have to thank the members of the Lauriver Discord server for acting as sounding boards throughout the writing process. Please be aware that I am now just tagging the characters who appear from other shows such as Supergirl without the additive of “Earth-1”. I feel readers are smart enough to know I’m talking about the Earth-1 counterparts of the characters.

Oliver Queen, clad in a tuxedo, walked down the stairs with Laurel Lance, clad in the same ensemble she had worn to the dinner party Oliver’s mother had thrown a few weeks back, on his arm. There was quite the crowd here tonight, as Oliver had predicted, and the fact that Oliver Queen was throwing his first charity gala as C.E.O. of Queen Consolidated had seen all sorts come out of the woodwork. The Rathaways were here from Central City, including the newly-minted owner of S.T.A.R. Labs, Hartley Rathaway, who Oliver mused looked like he wanted to be anywhere but at a charity gala. Dr. Tina McGee was also here from Central City. Oliver amused himself with the fact that Simon Stagg would likely have been here if this had been a charity gala for any other organization but the one that he had just pulled funding from.

Lex Luthor had flown in from Metropolis, no doubt to showcase his great empathy for mankind (an empathy Wayne had implied he lacked during that first discussion surrounding the joint Queen Consolidated-Wayne Enterprises clean energy project). Speaking of Wayne, he was here, as was Thomas Elliot. Ruby Ryder, the world’s wealthiest woman who rarely left the Hamptons if rumors could be trusted, was also here, as were the Teagues from Metropolis. But by and large, most present here were from Starling City, looking to endear themselves to a pair who were quickly becoming one of the city’s power couples. Oliver had coached Laurel on what to expect, having grown up with this sort of interaction. When they had been a couple before the island, their public appearances had mainly been at clubs and the like, not charity events like this one.

“I feel so nervous,” Laurel whispered to Oliver. “What if I screw up? C.N.R.I. needs this.”

“You’ll be fine, Laurel,” Oliver said soothingly. “Just be yourself. Be the passionate young attorney who wants to change the world. Give those you talk to something to remember you by when they’re cutting the checks.”

“Thank you for being here, Ollie, and for doing all of this,” Laurel said softly.

“I will always be there for you,” Oliver said, squeezing her hand gently.

Oliver and Laurel greeted those guests they met on the way to the podium, but Oliver knew the real meet-and-greet would be after Laurel’s speech. The two of them had spent the past two days working on one and found that it just didn’t have the passion Laurel was known for when it was prepared. So, they had decided that she should wing it. Oliver would be introducing her, and he would also be winging it since he found his most inspiring speeches were from the heart instead of prepared, something Thea had told him to go with in the future when he wasn’t sure how to capture what he wanted to say when he was getting ready to announce his candidacy for mayor. Oliver and Laurel mounted the dais and walked to the podium, reluctantly parting their arms as Oliver tapped the microphone, gaining everyone’s attention.

“Thank you all for coming tonight,” Oliver said. “Tonight’s event is intended to provide much-needed funding to a vital resource in the war against corruption in Starling City, the City Necessary Resources Initiative. I have known the director of this organization, Dinah Laurel Lance, since we were children, and a more passionate, selfless individual you couldn’t find. She cares deeply for every case she takes on, rejoices victories and mourns losses with her clients, and is every bit a hero that fights for the people of this city as one wearing a mask. It is my great privilege to introduce this woman to you. So, please, give a warm welcome to Laurel Lance, the director of C.N.R.I., and I hope you come to know this passionate, dedicated woman as I have in the short time we have together tonight.” Oliver backed away from the podium, leading a polite round of applause as Laurel took the podium, her nervousness melting away now that she was here and actually going through with this.

“As Oliver said, thank you for coming tonight,” Laurel began. “At its core, C.N.R.I. is dedicated to taking the cases that the District Attorney’s office either won’t or can’t touch because of corruption, greed, or simple incompetence. Cases that deeply affect the lives of the ordinary citizens of this city who live paycheck to paycheck, never quite comfortable with their lives, but unable to change because a chosen few have decided that it’s alright to step on the throats of others in order to elevate themselves. C.N.R.I. seeks to remind those people that the law is there for everyone and cannot be ignored, no matter how wealthy or connected you are. That so many have turned up here tonight gives me a great deal of hope, hope that I want to see spread to the people of Starling City.” Laurel stepped back to more applause and rejoined Oliver. “That was nerve-wracking,” she confided to him.

“You seemed pretty good up there,” Oliver said as they left the dais. “Now, you need to make the circuit on your own. They need to see you as your own person, not as Oliver Queen’s arm candy. Show these people who you are, the person that I love, and C.N.R.I. will reap the benefits.”

A short time later, Oliver received word from a waiter that Lex Luthor was holding court and wanted him to join them. Oliver made his way over to where Lex was located, and found that he had already been joined by the Teagues, the Rathaways, Tommy Merlyn (Oliver had to admit to being surprised at Tommy’s presence considering his attitude towards Oliver and Laurel’s desire to help the people of Starling), and two people Oliver recognized but did not expect to see: Clark Kent and Lois Lane. He would have to file that away to think about later. For now, he had to get through one of the socialite discussions he had so despised when he was younger. **_*1*_**

“Oliver, glad you could join us,” Lex said. “I believe you know everyone?”

“Not everyone,” Oliver said blandly, giving a nod to the two reporters.

“Oh, my apologies,” Lex said. “Oliver, these are Lois Lane and Clark Kent, two of the _Planet_ ’s best and brightest.” He smiled indulgently at the double entendre, earning some good-natured chuckles, though Oliver’s keen ear heard the uneasiness in Clark’s. “Mr. Kent, Miss Lane, I’m sure you have at least heard of Mr. Queen.”

“What reporter hasn’t?” Lois said. “Your story is one a lot of reporters are wanting the scoop on, Mr. Queen.” She eyed him speculatively while Clark gave Oliver a good-natured smile.

“My story?” Oliver said blandly.

“You’ve made quite a stir, Oliver,” Lex said. “You survived alone on an island for five years, come back, and not only join the family company, but take the C.E.O. job when your company is in freefall and manage to turn it around, securing ownership of your family’s company in the process, and now you’ve landed quite the contract with Bruce here. Those are bold moves for the business world.”

“Well, I’ve never been one for subtleties,” Oliver said. “Something my father and mother were disappointed in. But I believe that one should be as close to their true self as possible. One cannot hide in the shadows and expect to be trusted.” He very purposely avoided looking at Bruce Wayne, instead musing over how he had changed since his return to Starling in the original timeline, where he had done nothing _but_ hide who he truly was from people. “As to my story, it’s really not all that interesting, Miss Lane. I survived alone for five years, and when I got back, I wanted to honor my father and took a position at Queen Consolidated. When Walter Steele was murdered, I knew I had to step up so our investors and those who worked for my company knew that nothing was going to happen. It’s not much of a story.” _And I’m not about to give an exclusive to the doppelganger of the woman who urged Barry to deck me for telling the truth,_ Oliver added silently in his head. He knew it was petty, but he didn’t care. Lois Lane hadn’t even known him an hour and she had judged him as if she had every right to.

“Do you mind if I quote you on that?” Lois asked.

“I would prefer you didn’t,” Oliver replied. Lois nodded, looking disappointed. Oliver couldn’t bring himself to care.

“Though, speaking of stories out of Starling City, I was wondering what everyone’s thoughts on the recent heroics of the Green Arrow are,” Lex said. “We’ll save our two Starling residents for last.” Oliver and Tommy exchanged glances; they hadn’t expected _this_ when they joined Lex’s group. “Bruce, why don’t you go first?”

“Gotham has its own vigilante problems,” Wayne said with an easy shrug. “But I will say this: the Batman does a lot of things that might be frowned on, but he’s no murderer. Not like Green Arrow.” _So, that’s how it’s going to be, eh, Bruce? Well, two can play at that game,_ Oliver thought musingly.

“A strong position,” Lex said. “Edward, do you and Genevieve have an opinion?”

“Not really,” Edward replied. “We don’t live in Starling and have no holdings there. Up until this thing with the mob, we didn’t really pay much attention. I would say Green Arrow is like any fad. He’ll be around for a while and then fade into obscurity.” _Not likely to happen, you pretentious asshole,_ Oliver replied in his head.

“I don’t really think there’s much to say about some ‘Robin Hood’,” Genevieve said. “If I recall the lore right, Robin Hood died an ignominious death. His crusade was all for nothing.”

“I think you’re thinking of the BBC show, Mom,” Jason said helpfully. “And I don’t think much either way. It’s nothing to do with me.”

“Quinn? Jocelyn?” Lex prompted the Rathaways.

“Central City’s already seen fallout that was probably inspired by this Green Arrow’s public power plays,” Jocelyn Rathaway said. “Poor Harrison Wells was murdered in his own home, probably by one of those radicals who thought he was going to blow a hole in the world with the Particle Accelerator. We’ve hired security for dear Hartley just in case someone tries to go after him.” Hartley scowled at this. _I think ‘dear Hartley’ hasn’t had any since you did that,_ Oliver thought in amusement.

“Clark? Lois?” Lex prompted after it became obvious that neither Quinn or Hartley Rathaway had anything to say about Green Arrow.

“I don’t know why, but I think this is the beginning of something,” Lois said. “We’ve only ever heard off-hand comments about the Batman. Most people don’t even know he exists. But there are YouTube videos of Green Arrow’s speech, his actions across Starling City, and people speculating over what this means and what this Tempest he spoke of is. They’ve even brought in the F.B.I. to investigate, from what I hear.”

“I think it’s very brave of this Green Arrow to do what he is doing,” Clark said, adjusting his glasses. “He goes out every night with just a bow and arrows, and until recently hasn’t even had the benefit of strong body armor. He risks his life every night for his city, and his actions with the mob war show that he cares deeply for the people of Starling City. I wouldn’t exactly call him a vigilante; sounds more like a hero to me.” Tommy scoffed at that.

“Clearly, one of our Starling residents disagrees,” Lex said, amused. “Tommy?”

“I think Green Arrow’s insane, and he’s going to end up in a body bag one of these days,” Tommy said. “People say he cares about the people of Starling. But what about the people who care about him, if he has any? What about the people who would worry about him every night? My Mom used to think the people of Starling City were worth helping, too. She founded a clinic in the Glades, and she went there every day, working late into the night. And one night, someone shot her and left her to die in the street. Green Arrow thinks he can change that all on his own. He’s insane.”

“That’s certainly a unique perspective,” Lex said. “Oliver?”

“I’d like to address Mr. Wayne’s comments before I put my position out there, as they tie into what I have to say,” Oliver said before he turned to face Wayne, who had raised an eyebrow in his direction. “It is true that the Green Arrow has killed in his pursuit of what he likely sees as justice. James Holder was the landlord of a series of tenements that suffered devastating fires that saw dozens dead, all because Holder refused to keep his tenements up to code. While Green Arrow could have waited until the next tenement fire, it would have meant more people dead. The new landlord for those tenements is bringing the buildings up to code and fronting the bill for the tenants to stay in hotels and motels across Starling while its done so. Leo Mueller, from my understanding, was an arms dealer who made his money selling military-grade weapons to street gangs and turning the streets of American cities into warzones. The Bratva and mafiosos that were killed had long rap sheets that included suspicion in cases of murder and rape. None of these men were innocents.”

Oliver met Tommy’s gaze briefly before turning back to face Wayne. “Now, personally, I prefer the vigilante who is willing to kill when necessary over the one that leaves scum like The Joker to kill again and again. In my opinion, every death that The Joker is responsible for after his first or second incarceration in Arkham Asylum is on the hands of the Batman as well, and those deaths _are_ innocents.” Wayne’s hand tightened almost imperceptibly around the stem of his champagne flute. “And as I said a few weeks ago at a dinner party, I think it is a judgment against the justice system of Starling City that it takes a vigilante to get justice for the people victimized by the likes of Adam Hunt, Martin Somers, and James Holder. That is why I am throwing this fundraiser for C.N.R.I., so that there are more people able to fight against injustice in Starling than _just_ Green Arrow.”

“Well,” Lex said after a moment. “That is certainly a diverse group of opinions. Myself, I’m intrigued by the fact that Green Arrow seems to have someone backing him. That new armor of his couldn’t have been cheap to craft.” _Nope, it cost two million dollars,_ Oliver thought, resisting the urge to smirk. “Whatever Green Arrow’s intentions, I’m going to keep an eye on news from Starling City. Should prove entertaining if nothing else.” **_*2*_**

The group broke up after a few more minutes of small talk, and Oliver snagged a flute of champagne from a passing waiter. He saw Laurel talking animatedly with a group of people who seemed to be listening to whatever it was that she was saying, and he smiled. There she was. There was the passionate young attorney he loved and admired. He felt someone come up beside him. “It’s good to see her like this,” Tommy said softly. “This sort of thing, this sort of way of fighting injustice and corruption, I can admire.”

“Just not racing across rooftops and sending arrows into scumbags,” Oliver mused. “I’ve done everything I can to help you see things from my perspective, Tommy. I can do nothing more. You’ll just have to come to terms with who and what I am in your own time.”

“Ollie,” Tommy said quietly, drawing his friend’s attention. “Despite what’s happening between us right now, you’re still my best friend in life, my brother in all but blood. I am always going to need you, and Laurel, and Sara in my life. You understand that, right?” Oliver nodded slowly. “Then understand that this comes from a place of deep concern and care. Ollie, you need help.”

“I’m not sure what you mean,” Oliver said, taking a sip of champagne.

“You need to see someone, a professional, get some full-time counseling,” Tommy said. “Sherwood Acres is a good facility, and it’s close to Starling so you would still be able to see Laurel and you could keep an eye on things at Queen Consolidated. But you need to talk to someone about this Green Arrow business.”

“I’m already seeing someone, Tommy,” Oliver said. “Dr. Anne Green is a noted trauma therapist, one my mother recommended after that dinner party. I’m talking to her about things that matter to me, like when Thea and I were having troubles. Sadly, her advice wasn’t something I was able to go through with since Thea ran away before I could try and employ it.”

“And then you abandoned Thea altogether,” Tommy pointed out disgustedly.

“Only once I remembered that there was someone who had done the same thing I had, made the same promise when she was younger,” Oliver replied. “Someone who has just as much a right to be her guardian as I do. Someone who can give her the home and love she deserves, because as much I love her, I have an entire city depending on me.”

“Don’t think that’s gonna distract me. You need more than one session every week or month, Ollie. You need 24-hour care, someone to talk you down from an episode.”

Oliver sighed. “I’m not sick, Tommy.”

“You are,” Tommy said. “You think you’re some kind of Robin Hood, helping the poor and disenfranchised, and you are buying into your own press. Ollie, I don’t want to lose you. Please, just think about getting some help.”

“I don’t need help,” Oliver said, and finished the champagne. “Goodnight, Tommy.” He turned and began making his way in Laurel’s direction, leaving a despondent Tommy behind him.

**_*DC*_ **

Later that night, Oliver Queen stood on the balcony of his loft, looking out across the city with a pensive expression on his face. The charity gala had been a success, and C.N.R.I. had secured funding that would keep it open for the next few years, at least. He had known letting Laurel show her passion in talking with the guests would see them opening their pockets a bit deeper, if only because they didn’t want to appear callous in the face of Laurel’s genuine enthusiasm and passion. Laurel was upstairs, sleeping due to the exhaustion that came with these galas. Oliver had eased her night a bit by giving her a foot rub, easing the tension from wearing high heels for hours on end. She had teased him about becoming a domesticated lion. Oliver had told her that that couldn’t be farther from the truth, his mind going to the early phase of his and Felicity’s relationship after leaving Starling after Ra’s’ death. He swore that no matter what, he wouldn’t become that person again. That person had seen death come to the woman now resting upstairs, and there was no way in hell that Oliver was losing her again.

Clark Kent existed on Earth-1. That had been a shock, and one he had barely managed to keep from reacting to. He had looked up this Clark after Laurel had gone to sleep, checking to see if this one was potentially an alien from another world. According to the records he had dug up from Smallville, Kansas, Clark had been a foundling, his true name and birthplace unknown, found in a cornfield by a pair of infertile farmers, Jonathan and Martha Kent. That certainly suggested he was the same as the Clark Oliver had met. So, the question became, why had he not revealed himself and done the same as Earth-38 counterpart, become Superman? If he had made it to this world, than it was likely other aliens could be living amongst the human population, and some of them were undoubtedly going to be bad. Oliver didn’t know if a normal human, even ones as well-prepared as he or Batman, would be able to stand up to such beings on a regular basis. It had taken three separate teams of heroes, plus Supergirl, just to keep the Dominators _distracted_ while Barry and Kara tagged them with the devices invented by Martin and Lily Stein (the latter of whom didn’t exist anymore since Oliver had erased the timeline where she was created).

So, how could he inspire this Clark to do what his counterpart had done? Because the world could use a Superman, just as Oliver had said he thought Earth-1 could use a Supergirl. Oliver mused over what he could do and decided in the end the best thing he could do was to continue to act as openly as he did, and hope that inspired Clark and others who may be hiding in the shadows. While the world might not face such problems as the Dominator invasion and the invasion of Nazis from Earth-X, there were sure to be problems that Oliver and Wayne alone couldn’t fight. When those times came, something more was needed. A.R.G.U.S. would soon have the Suicide Squad. H.I.V.E. had its stable of mercenaries and assassins. The League of Assassins existed to serve the balance of the universe. All of these organizations fought in the shadows, for good or ill. But something more was needed, an organization that fought in the light of day and stood as a bastion against tyranny. A League of a different sort, one dedicated to justice.

Oliver smiled. _The Justice League,_ he mused. _I like the sound of that._

**_*DC*_ **

Tommy Merlyn flexed his hands nervously as he stared out at the crowd of reporters. He had wrestled with this decision for the past few days, but in the end, the only way to get Oliver the help that he needed and make sure his friends were safe from the insanity that Oliver was inspiring as Green Arrow was to do this. Tommy noted that his father was also present, expression curious, and wondered how his father would take this news, especially if Oliver was wrong and there was nothing untoward about Malcolm. “Thank you for coming,” Tommy said, drawing the reporters’ attention. “I’m sure many of you are wondering why I’ve called you all out here today. Two weeks ago, I learned something very troubling about someone close to me. It had an Earth-shattering effect on me, and I’ve wrestled with this knowledge, whether or not to reveal it. But in the end, the truth will out, and I would rather the truth came from me then from… other sources.

“For over a month now, Starling City has played host to a vigilante calling himself the Green Arrow. Some hail him as a modern-day Robin Hood. Others call him a hero. He is neither of these things. He is a man whose family and friends care deeply for him, a man whose understandably broken in mind and spirit after suffering terrible tragedies over the course of five years. Two weeks ago, I learned that the Green Arrow is none other than my best friend, Oliver Queen, C.E.O. of Queen Consolidated.” Shouts broke out at this, and Tommy saw Malcolm’s face twist in shock before becoming contemplative. “This is not mere suspicion. Oliver took me to his base of operations, somewhere in the Glades, when our friend Laurel Lance was kidnapped by a man named Ankov. Due to the fear I was feeling for Laurel at the time, I don’t remember where this base is, but I remember seeing my best friend shed his business suit and put on the hooded uniform of the Green Arrow and tell me he _knew_ that he could bring this city back from the cesspit it has become.

“Oliver is not Robin Hood, and he’s not a hero. He is a very sick man who needs help. It is my intention to see that he gets the help he needs, but the first step towards doing that is forcing him to confront the reality of the situation, and all other attempts at intervention have failed, leaving me with only one alternative: to inform the public and law enforcement, and make sure Oliver receives a lawyer who will make sure whatever his sentence, it is served at a psychiatric facility where he can get the help that he deserves.”

Several reporters raised their hands, and Tommy pointed to Susan Williams. “Mr. Merlyn, what do you have to say regarding the mysterious Tempest Green Arrow mentioned in his debut speech and the LLC of the same name that the F.B.I. began investigating upon the discovery of the _Queen’s Gambit_?”

“I do not believe there is such an organization,” Tommy replied. “Another word for the kind of storm that was raging when the _Gambit_ went down is a tempest. Oliver’s broken mind latched onto the classical literature we learned at Berlanti Preparatory, in my opinion, and he has built this whole Shakespearean tragedy surrounding him and his family which, while tragic, is simply not the result of a larger conspiracy.” Tommy pointed at another reporter he recognized from last night, Clark Kent.

“Mr. Merlyn, you had the prime opportunity to expose Mr. Queen as Green Arrow during last night’s charity gala,” Clark said. “I was there when Lex Luthor asked for both yours and Mr. Queen’s opinions. Why not reveal him then and there?”

“Because I was still hoping to convince him privately to seek the help he needs,” Tommy replied. “But he refused to acknowledge that he is sick, and so I have no choice but to do this.” Clark nodded and scribbled something down in his notebook.

More questions were shouted, most surrounding the authenticity of Tommy’s claim. Malcolm slipped away from the press conference, back to his office on the top floor, and dug out the Tempest cell phone. He selected Nudocerdo’s name and waited. “What is it?” Nudocerdo asked.

“You’re watching the news?” Malcolm asked calmly.

“I am,” Nudocerdo said. “A part of me doesn’t believe it, but it sure explains the weird attitude Queen has had since returning.”

“I don’t care what it takes or how messy it is, Commissioner,” Malcolm said softly. “I want Oliver Queen _dead_ by sunset.” **_*3*_**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter.
> 
> Chapter Notes:
> 
> *1* Okay, before people start saying, “There’s no Earth-1 Clark Kent!” I will point out they firmly established in “Crisis on Earth-X” and “Elseworlds” that there ARE doppelgangers for the heroes on every Earth. There’s also the fact that Oliver found Kryptonite on Earth-1, since I doubt that he asked Barry or Cisco to help him get it from Earth-38. But I will remind people there are differences on every Earth. So, it is very likely, IMO, that there was an Earth-1 Clark, but he was afraid of revealing himself. That’s my head-canon, anyways.
> 
> *2* Writing this scene was fun, though I had to adapt it from the original version since originally this was a scene at a gala in Metropolis that Oliver attended in the original Mob War arc. For those wondering about the comment about the BBC show, this refers to the 2006 series “Robin Hood”. Much like “Arrow”, the first two seasons were awesome, at least until they killed Marion in the S2 finale. S3 kind of fell flat, and then they killed Robin in the series finale. Actually, now I think about it, I can’t help but wonder if Guggenheim took his inspiration from that show as far as stupid decisions go.
> 
> *3* So, when I first started planting seeds for this idea, I wasn’t sure if it would happen or if Tommy would dismiss his initial thoughts. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized this would be very in-character for the Tommy I’ve crafted in this story. Ah, and as always, Malcolm is moving ahead with trying to get rid of his nemesis using whatever tools he has at his disposal while suffering from delusions.


	46. Exposed

Oliver Queen was in his office at Queen Consolidated, going over paperwork, when he heard a rapid tapping on the glass door of the office. He looked up and spotted Barry Allen on the other side. Oliver waved him in, setting the pen down, and waited as the younger man entered the office and made sure the door was closed tight behind him. “Barry, what can I do for you?” Oliver asked. “And next time, you should probably call up to make sure I have time.”

“Something tells me you’re gonna have a lot of free time, Oliver,” Barry said. “The guys were watching a press conference called at Merlyn Global by the head of Special Projects.” Oliver felt a chill go down his spine at that. “They figured it was gonna be about some new technology and we’d need to be ahead of the curve. Oliver, Tommy Merlyn just outed you as the Green Arrow. The whole Applied Sciences crew is shocked, and the new head looked like she’d just been hit with an iron skillet. Oliver, you gotta get out of here.”

Oliver stared at Barry for a moment, and then his phone began ringing. He picked it up, saw it was Laurel, and answered it. “If this is about Tommy, someone just told me,” he said calmly.

“Ollie, what are you going to do?” Laurel asked worriedly.

“Ever since Tommy made his threat, I’ve been setting up contingencies,” Oliver said. “Now I activate them. I’m afraid I’m going to be out of communication for a while, Laurel. But know that my heart is with you, always, and I will _always_ find a way back to you.” He paused for a moment, swallowing a lump that formed in his throat. “I love you, Laurel.”

“I love you, too, Ollie,” Laurel’s voice broke, and Oliver heard her start to cry as she ended the call. Oliver closed his eyes against the wave of emotional agony that coursed through him, then pulled up Jean Loring’s number on his phone and called it.

“Jean,” he greeted as she picked up. “Oliver Queen. Begin implementing those contingencies we talked about.”

“I’ve seen the news, Oliver, I don’t know if I’ll be able to do all of them,” Jean said. “And I urge you to turn yourself in. It’ll only be worse if you don’t cooperate.”

“Thank you for your concern, but I’ll do what I feel is best,” Oliver said. “You just make sure those plans are implemented.” Oliver hung up and turned his attention back to Barry. “Walk with me, Barry,” Oliver said as he circled the desk and headed for the door. Barry followed him, the two of them nodding at Mark Snow on the way out. Mark gave no sign he had seen anything, diligently working at his desk. Oliver and Barry boarded an elevator, and Oliver hit the button for the parking garage. “Barry, you’ve shown loyalty above and beyond in the short time I’ve known you,” Oliver said. “You could have let me be blindsided, but you came to me immediately. You’re a true friend.”

“I just see the hope you’re giving this city,” Barry mumbled. “What will you do? Where will you go?”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Oliver said. “I’m staying in Starling City. There’s someone far worse out there than the mob, Barry, and I am going to bring him down, even if I have to do it as an outlaw.”

“Why are you so dedicated to fighting for the city?” Barry asked as the elevator descended towards the parking garage.

Oliver was silent for a moment. Finally, he said, “It’s not something I can explain in words, Barry. Sometimes, there are things you just _know_ have to be done and you do them, no matter what the personal cost is.” Oliver looked at the younger man. “I don’t expect you to understand. It’s not something you can just hear and get where the other person is coming from. You have to live it.” Barry was silent for the rest of the trip, and the elevator doors opened. Oliver held out a hand. “Good luck, Barry.”

“You, too, Oliver,” Barry said quietly. Oliver exited the elevator and headed straight for his Ducati, feeling glad he had decided to use it today instead of the Camaro. Oliver mounted the bike and got his helmet on before tearing out of the parking garage, diving into traffic, and heading for the Glades, all while trying not to think about the sound of Laurel’s sob on the phone, because she didn’t see a way for them to be together now, or how Oliver was going to find a way out of this. _I’ll find a way,_ Oliver vowed to himself as he weaved in and out of traffic. _Somehow, I will find a way to get back to her. ***1***_

**_*DC*_ **

The news broke over Starling City during the noon-day rush, when people checked their phones for news updates or listened to the news broadcast at their favorite lunch spot, where the employees had turned on the television at customers’ requests. Oliver Queen, the C.E.O. of Queen Consolidated, was the Green Arrow and was even now on the run from the Starling City Police Department, which had issued a warrant for his arrest. The overwhelming emotion for the majority of those finding out for the first time was shock. Oliver Queen had become a prominent figure in Starling City of late, from his discovery of the _Queen’s Gambit_ to his meteoric rise to the position of C.E.O. to his throwing a fundraiser for the legal aid office his girlfriend was the head of.

And yet, as the news settled and people began to look at his actions, the question was not, “How is this possible?” No, the question on most people’s lips became, “How did we not see it before?” Because in hindsight, it was fairly obvious. Queen’s speeches from the groundbreaking ceremony at the site of the new Robert Queen Applied Sciences Center and his debut as the new C.E.O. of Queen Consolidated, when played side-by-side with the Green Arrow’s debut speech, showed similarities to Green Arrow’s desires. The armored suit he had worn during the mob war had to have cost millions of dollars, and only a billionaire could afford something of that nature without thinking twice.

Roy Harper was stunned when he first heard the news, and now he was conflicted. Queen was a trust fund brat, the head of a multi-billion dollar corporation, and yet he had done more for the people of the Glades than anyone except maybe his girlfriend in her work at C.N.R.I., and he had certainly done more for Roy than either of his deadbeat parents had. Yet it was still hard to reconcile the image of the billionaire with playboy good looks with the fierce warrior who defended the people of the Glades and fearlessly threw himself into danger for the sake of the city.

Dr. Anne Green leaned away from her computer, stunned at what she had just read while on her lunch break. All of the little personality quirks and the mystery surrounding her most elusive client suddenly became unbelievably clear, and she understood what he had meant when he had told her that he had responsibilities to Starling that his sister didn’t seem to grasp. She was wondering how she didn’t see it; it had been obvious Oliver Queen was putting up a front. But then again, who in the world would be able to guess that their elusive client was none other than a vigilante fighting against crime and corruption?

Thea Queen, in Metropolis, was horrified that Tommy had done this and was teetering on despair. A part of her wanted to slap him silly for what he had done to Ollie. Thea wanted her brother to stop being Green Arrow, not _send him to prison_ where she would only be able to see him through a glass divider since he would be considered one of the more dangerous prisoners and not allowed normal visitation. Thea was in the kitchen when the news broke, and she had been cutting a block of cheese, making herself a sandwich. Her hazel eyes looked down at the knife she had been using speculatively as the despair of knowing her brother’s life was all but over thanks to her _other_ brother and current guardian set in.

Joanna de la Vega looked at her best friend through the glass doors that led to the director’s office. Laurel was hunched over her computer, staring at it but not typing. Joanna could see her lip trembling and felt for her friend. She was shocked that the earnest man that she had met when he came by to begin arranging things for the fundraiser and invite all of C.N.R.I.’s employees to it to give the people they were trying to get money from an idea of the number of people who worked for C.N.R.I. was the Green Arrow, but considering how frequently Green Arrow had saved her best friend and gotten involved in cases that C.N.R.I. had an interest in, perhaps it wasn’t so difficult to believe. And Laurel had been cagey as to why she had started looking into the Declan case before finally admitting to Joanna that Green Arrow had brought it to her, believing she was the right lawyer for the job. Joanna wondered if Laurel had always known Oliver was Green Arrow, or if this was as much a shock to her, finding out her boyfriend had been who she referred to once as the city’s guardian angel.

Emiko Adachi had had a few hours in which to adapt to the startling news that had been announced. Her brother was the city’s vigilante guardian. That was a shock; she wouldn’t have thought the boy she remembered from Berlanti Preparatory and whose exploits were fodder for the paparazzi could be the kind of person that did what the Green Arrow did. Emiko felt a little nervous, now, because she knew that what her brother did was the precise opposite of the goals that she had sworn herself to when she joined the Ninth Circle. Objectively speaking, her brother could easily be an enemy for the Ninth Circle, and she wondered, considering all he had done for her and her mother, whether she would be able to fight him if that day ever came.

Kazumi Adachi was shocked into silence as she stared at the noon-day news, which she had turned on while cleaning her kitchen. The gentle and considerate young man who had sat in her living room and all but offered the world to her and her daughter was the Green Arrow, the vigilante taking aim at the wealthy and corrupt, the very kinds of people his father had willingly followed the whims of? How could Oliver have become the complete opposite of his parents just in those five years he had been gone? The reality, Kazumi realized, was that he _couldn’t_ have changed so drastically in five years, no matter what he suffered or how his world-view changed. Whatever suffering he endured couldn’t have changed who Oliver Queen was at his core; nothing could do that, which meant that this had always been inside the boy Robert so proudly proclaimed as his son and heir. She wondered how Robert would feel, knowing his son was a better man than he would ever be.

Henry Allen was stunned. The man who had recruited his son was the vigilante he had heard so much about in Iron Heights? Barry had been withdrawn recently, ever since he came home one night during the mob war that had been happening. Had something happened? Had he seen something about his boss that pointed to the truth and had been keeping it quiet? Henry wasn’t unaware of the fact that his son admired Green Arrow; whenever the topic of the vigilante came up in conversation, Barry expressed his admiration for anyone who would fight crime and corruption, even if it was outside the law. Henry’s incarceration as an innocent man had deeply affected his son, Henry knew, and he supposed that that was where his son’s admiration for Green Arrow, for _Oliver Queen_ , had come from. Henry himself didn’t know how he felt about this revelation, beyond wondering if this would affect his son’s employment. Queen Consolidated had sure taken a beating. The discovery that Robert Queen had likely been murdered thanks to the _Queen’s Gambit_ being found, Moira Queen’s suicide, Walter Steele’s murder, and now their most recent C.E.O. had been exposed as the city’s resident vigilante.

John Diggle watched the news with his current client, thinking that this should’ve been expected. Queen had been operating too openly and with too much evidence mounting to continue hiding the truth of his nature for long. He had been impressed with what Queen had done during the mob war, even entertained the thought of going back and offering his help to Queen (he still remembered where the Bunker was located), but Queen’s willingness to kill and his connections to A.R.G.U.S. had stayed Diggle’s hand. He supposed it was for the best that he hadn’t, now, since when (not if, but _when_ ) Queen was caught, he would bring down everyone connected to him and his mission, and everyone involved would probably end up further under the control of A.R.G.U.S, a fate that Diggle wanted nothing to do with.

Quentin Lance had heard some rumors about a press conference that revealed the identity of the Green Arrow, but he had passed it off as nonsense. Now, as he listened to a briefing by the Commissioner himself on the new task force being put together to hunt down and capture or kill Oliver Queen, the Green Arrow, he felt sick to his stomach. With both of his daughters alive and well, the anger he had felt at Queen had begun to fade, and at the end of the day, this was a man who Quentin had known since he was a little boy, a boy who had befriended his daughter on her first day at Berlanti Preparatory after they had moved here from Gotham when Laurel was eight and Sara six, and been an integral part of his family’s lives all these years. The way Nudocerdo was talking, it wasn’t a question of Oliver being _arrested_ ; Nudocerdo was looking to kill Queen for whatever reason, throwing around terms like ‘armed and extremely dangerous’ and using phrases like ‘do whatever it takes’. Quentin’s stomach churned with guilt and worried over the reactions of his girls to this news, especially if his suspicions were true and they had both known about Queen like Merlyn apparently had.

Dinah Lance, watching the noon-day news with her colleagues at Central City University, had a hand to her mouth, her mind instantly going to Laurel and how she was taking this news, considering how important Oliver was to her, as himself and as Green Arrow. Yes, Laurel had told her about how Green Arrow had saved her life from Adam Hunt and then crushed the Triad before they could threaten her and knowing that it had been Oliver who did that had everything click into place for Dinah. She found herself, for the first time, hoping that the police wouldn’t be able to or willing to do their jobs, including her ex-husband.

Laurel Lance was trying to remain strong, knowing she needed to because Oliver’s exposure meant a lot of people would be turning to her and asking if she knew, and she had already proven with her father that she was a terrible liar. She was probably going to face an inquiry from the police into how deeply involved with Oliver’s actions as Green Arrow she was, especially thanks to Tommy telling everyone about a kidnapping that no one had been told about. Laurel knew she would be lucky to escape prison herself, depending on whether or not her father did whatever he could to protect her.

If Tommy Merlyn had walked into her hospital room at the moment the noon-day news revealed that he had announced Green Arrow’s identity to the world, Sara Lance would have killed him with her _television remote_. Her heart ached for both Oliver and Laurel, knowing that this would keep them separated, that they might never be together again while worrying about the ramifications this could have for Starling City. With Oliver on the run, the city was in greater danger from Ra’s al Ghul, which meant Sara’s _family_ was in greater danger from the one she had once served. Sara vowed she would get out on the streets to help Oliver as the Canary as soon as she could, even if she was only half-healed. What Oliver was doing was too important; and if the city did lose him, if he was captured, it would need others fighting for it to keep Ra’s from unleashing his wrath on the city.

Amanda Waller had heard about the news when it first broke, of course; Lyla Michaels had brought it to her and asked her what their response was to be. Technically, Oliver was acting on behalf of A.R.G.U.S., and thus on behalf of the United States government. On the other hand, he had essentially been burned thanks to the actions of his best friend, leaving Waller with limited options as A.R.G.U.S. was a _covert_ intelligence division. The most she could do for him now was wait until he was in custody, seize custody of him, and then use what work he had done to try and create Task Force X. But something stayed her hand; she knew her asset, and she doubted he had been completely unprepared for this eventuality. He had to have a plan moving forward, and so long as he remained out of police custody, her aid wasn’t going to be needed.

Malcolm Merlyn stood at the window of his office, looking out across Starling City at the skyrise where Queen Consolidated was headquartered. Oliver had played his role well, keeping his true nature hidden from everyone despite his words at the dinner party. What he had told them afterward had obviously been damage control, a move made to keep Malcolm from moving against him before he was ready. A cruel smirk curled Malcolm’s lips as he realized he now had all the leverage he needed against the Green Arrow, should Oliver somehow manage to live through the day. Green Arrow would be hindered in his efforts now that he had been exposed as Oliver Queen, but if Oliver proved he didn’t need the massive Queen fortune behind him to prove he was a nuisance, Malcolm could draw Oliver into a confrontation using Laurel Lance and Oliver’s secret family in Central City. _What was it about the Queen men that they tried to lead two lives, or three in Oliver’s case?_ Malcolm mused. In the end, it didn’t matter. He knew Nudocerdo would do whatever he could to draw Oliver out of hiding and fulfill his promise to Tempest. Oliver Queen would die today. **_*2*_**

**_*DC*_ **

Dinah Laurel Lance wiped at her eyes, refusing to become a sobbing mess as she had earlier when Ollie had told her goodbye. Her heart had been shorn in two by the actions of one of her best friends, and a part of her couldn’t help but wonder if what Tommy had done had been done out of jealousy since she knew he had begun developing feelings for her; he had implied as much the night he came over to talk to her after he and Ollie had been abducted by those mercenaries all those weeks ago. Her own abduction had driven the conversation completely out of her mind, but now it was back at the forefront as she tried to figure out just why the _hell_ Tommy had followed through on his threat to Oliver, a threat Oliver had seemed to think he had neutralized. Had Tommy lied to Oliver and just waited for her to be back home and safe before striking?

Whatever the reason, the next time Laurel saw Tommy Merlyn, his cheek was going to be inflamed by a solid strike from her hand, and that was only the mildest of thoughts Laurel had about any confrontation she would have with the man who had driven a knife into her heart by betraying his best friend and her boyfriend.

Laurel was pulled from her thoughts at a tap on the door. A woman with graying auburn hair was on the other side. Laurel waved the woman in. “Can I help you with something, ma’am?” Laurel asked, cursing her voice as it wavered slightly.

“In some ways, I’m here to help _you_ , Miss Lance,” the woman said. “My name is Jean Loring. I represent Oliver Queen, and he called me immediately after Thomas Merlyn’s press conference and told me to begin implementing contingencies he had set up, though he had failed to tell me why they were needed, claiming he didn’t want things to be left up in the air. I was as shocked as anyone to find out he was Green Arrow.” Jean studied Laurel’s red eyes and added softly, “Something I’m guessing you’re not so shocked by.”

“What can I do for you, Ms. Loring?” Laurel asked.

“Oliver had very specific instructions for me, and I’m following them to the letter,” Jean replied. She set her briefcase on the desk and opened it, withdrawing a sheaf of paperwork. “This will transfer Oliver’s majority shareholding in Queen Consolidated to you, as well as give you custodianship over the Queen fortune until such a time as either Thea Queen reaches her majority or Oliver is exonerated. Oliver firmly believed you were the only person in his life he could trust with this, Miss Lance. I hope he wasn’t mistaken.”

“He-He wasn’t,” Laurel stammered, shocked at what Jean had told her. Oliver was entrusting his majority share in Queen Consolidated to her, along with custodianship of his family fortune? This was beyond anything she had expected. She numbly signed where Jean pointed for her to, officially taking charge. “Was there anything else, Ms. Loring?”

“Oliver left a letter for you,” Jean said, retrieving an envelope from the briefcase and handing it over to Laurel. “He also asked me to represent you, as I have he and his family, for the time being, in case anyone moved against you legally. I understand you are a successful attorney in your own right, but I hope you’ll at least consider accepting his request that I do so.”

“I will,” Laurel said. “It’s never a good idea to serve as your own defense counsel, and something tells me that I’m going to need it before the day is out. Commissioner Nudocerdo has an extreme hatred for Oliver’s _other_ side, and he’ll want to strike at Oliver however he can, even through me.”

“Then I suppose I’ll make myself comfortable here,” Jean said. “Feel free to ignore me until I am needed, Miss Lance.” Jean settled into a chair in front of Laurel’s desk, and Laurel sat down in her chair, sliding a letter opener under the envelope flap and opening it. She pulled out a sheet of lined, college-ruled paper and unfolded it, her eyes already beginning to well with tears as she took in Oliver’s familiar cursive lettering.

_Dear Laurel,_

_It is my hope that this letter and the paperwork it accompanies will never make it into your hands, but so much has been happening since I returned and started my work as the Green Arrow, beginning with your kidnapping. I had thought I was being smart by deciding to wait until later in the year before beginning my work, and by doing so, I nearly lost the most important person in my life. You. After that, I knew I couldn’t delay the debut of the Green Arrow, even though I knew it was likely that people would eventually figure me out. The deaths of my mother and Walter further made me realize I needed to prepare in case the worst happened, and I was exposed or arrested and there was no chance of putting the genie back in the bottle. This became an almost-certainty when Tommy issued his threat._

_When Tommy made his threat, it was just after you had been kidnapped by the Bratva and Sara was in surgery after being shot. I knew that even though I had neutralized the threat for the time being that the thought would always be there in his head, and considering Tommy’s belief that I am sick and need help, I knew it was only a matter of time before he revealed who I was. This wasn’t going to be like if someone caught me on camera suiting up or anything that could be dealt with by having someone else dress up in the Green Arrow’s uniform and have them appear elsewhere while I made a public spectacle of myself. This was my_ best friend _who was going to make these accusations, and he had the proof to back it up. So, I made plans for this eventuality._

_I firmly believe that I will find a way through this, Laurel, and one day, we will be together again. I have no intention of leaving Starling City, though I could. I have connections that could see me living in a country with no extradition. But I refuse to leave the city to face Merlyn and his plans with no warning of what is coming, especially with Ra’s al Ghul’s eye turned on Starling City now that he has become aware of Merlyn’s machinations. More importantly, I refuse to leave you to fight alone against those who rule our city through intimidation and fear. I once swore that these people would wish I had died on Lian Yu, and I intend to fulfill that promise._

_I know that right now you must be feeling hopeless, as though there is no chance of our being together now that I’ve been exposed. I believe there_ is _a chance, Laurel. I have to. Because I have been through too much, seen too many strange and wonderous things, to believe that it is impossible. A friend of mine has always believed that which is thought impossible is in fact possible, and I have to believe that though the future looks bleak and unforgiving for us, that we will find our way back to each other and I will be cleared of any charges that are brought against me. Until that day, I will continue to protect the city that we both love, and I will keep you close to my heart, always. I ask that you do the same, and that you believe, as I do, that we will see each other again. Believe, Laurel… believe in the impossible._

_All of my love,_

_Oliver_

_P.S. I suggest that you use your position as majority shareholder of Queen Consolidated to place Ned Foster as the C.E.O. for the time being._

Tears spilled from Laurel’s green eyes, dropping down onto the letter and smudging the ink. She would do what Oliver asked; she would believe they could be together again. They had been through too much to give up now. “I promise, Ollie,” she whispered, Jean looking over curiously but saying nothing. **_*3*_**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter.
> 
> Chapter Notes:
> 
> *1* I considered having Laurel be the one to tell Oliver, but I decided on it being Barry because it just seems like a very Barry thing to do, and Laurel would’ve been initially stunned at the betrayal of one of her best friends. Writing Oliver and Laurel’s brief conversation had me tearing up a bit.
> 
> *2* Writing all of these different reactions was a fun exercise, putting myself into the heads of so many people and coming up with how they would react, based on what we know of them. Kazumi was the easiest since, as someone we don’t know the personality of, her reaction could’ve been either way, and I think Oliver’s actions in making sure she and Emiko are taken care of would predispose her in favor of Oliver. As for Malcolm? We all know he has his delusions…
> 
> *3* Writing that letter from Oliver to Laurel was heart-breaking because I was picturing not only how Oliver must’ve been feeling when writing it (resigned), but also the way Laurel must’ve been feeling while reading it (heart-broken but trying to be strong). I hope everyone likes what Oliver’s contingency was in case he was exposed.


	47. The Deal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Since the last chapter was primarily peoples’ initial gut reactions to the news about Oliver, I decided I wanted to leave off with a chapter with a bit more meat to it. Oh, and thanks to Nyame, this story now has a TV Tropes page. Not sure if I’m allowed to link it here…

Laurel’s assertion that she would be needing Jean’s services before the day was out proved true. Just before one-thirty, a group of police officers entered the main office, silencing conversation. Everyone in the office knew that thanks to Oliver’s public support of C.N.R.I. as C.E.O. of Queen Consolidated and the fact that he had both saved their director’s life and given her a case with Peter Declan would lead to a confrontation with the police department. In the end, they stood behind Laurel, one hundred percent, because she had been their guiding light since that incident on the docks where their former director had been exposed, had comforted their clients, and given them renewed hope that their cases could be won. It didn’t matter that her vigilante boyfriend had helped her; the fact she had ties to someone dedicated to helping others the way they did was a bonus in the eyes of those who chose to work at C.N.R.I. **_*1*_**

Laurel stood as Lieutenant Franklin Pike entered the office with a pair of uniformed officers. “Lieutenant,” she greeted softly. “I can’t say this is unexpected, considering this morning’s news.”

“We need you to come down to the precinct with us, Miss Lance, answer some questions,” Pike said formally, ignoring the fact that he had spoken with Laurel more than once at precinct get-togethers with the officers’ families. This was why he had been sent instead of Lucas Hilton; he could ignore the personal connection he had to Laurel.

“A call would have sufficed,” Laurel said dryly.

“Your boyfriend is currently a wanted fugitive, accused of crimes that you are intimately involved in as a potential conspirator,” Pike said stiffly. “A call might well have seen you going to ground with him.”

“My lawyer and I can come down within the hour,” Laurel tried.

“I’m afraid we’re going to have to insist you come with us in one of our cars, Miss Lance,” Pike said. “Please, don’t make it into an official arrest by resisting. Right now, we just want to talk.”

“We both know that’s not what the commissioner will want, Lieutenant,” Laurel said, “but I’ll play your game, for now. Jean, meet us at the precinct?”

“I will, Laurel,” Jean said as she stood and turned to face the officers. “If my client is questioned without my being present by anyone, be it a beat cop or the commissioner himself, this city will be hit by such a lawsuit that they will have a black eye for weeks to come. Is that understood, lieutenant?”

“It is, Ms. Loring,” Pike said, while wondering how Laurel had wrangled a bulldog of an attorney like Jean Loring with what could only have been hours’ notice, before remembering that one of Loring’s chief clients was the Queen family. Pike made a gesture, and the two uniformed officers fell on either side of Laurel as she exited the office, Pike leading her.

Laurel frowned as she saw officers going over files. “I don’t see what our client files have to do with the investigation into the Green Arrow, lieutenant,” she said icily. “I hope you have the appropriate paperwork.”

“We have a search warrant,” Pike confirmed. “All of this is above board, Miss Lance, which is more than can be said for what you and your boyfriend have been doing.” _You mean other than your job?_ Laurel thought acerbically.

**_*DC*_ **

“Woah, woah, woah,” Henry Fyff said as police chatter lit up. “Boss, we got a problem.”

Oliver, who had been standing and staring at his uniform intently and thinking about how different everything was from the world that he had known for the umpteenth time, turned and moved to stand behind Fyff. “What’s happening, Henry?” Oliver asked.

“The cops just hit C.N.R.I. with a search warrant, and Miss Lance is being taken down to the 16th Precinct to be questioned,” Fyff said. “And the bug we got in Nudocerdo’s office is picking up what looks like him thinking out loud. He’s gonna hit her with everything he can, boss, to try and draw you out of hiding.” He turned to look up at Oliver. “What’re you going to do?”

“That,” Oliver said, staring at the feed from the bug in Nudocerdo’s office and reading what the man was saying to himself with a darkening expression, “is a good question.”

**_*DC*_ **

Tommy Merlyn was just finishing giving his official statement to Detective Lucas Hilton when there was a commotion at the door. He looked up, and his jaw dropped as Lieutenant Pike came through with Laurel following, two uniformed officers on either side of her. His eyes went to the side, where Quentin Lance was standing, dumbstruck at the sight of his daughter under guard, like he just couldn’t believe Laurel had been arrested. “Frank, what the hell’s going on?” Quentin asked as he made a beeline for Laurel, stopping the procession in it’s tracks. Laurel shot a surprised look at her father having thought he would have known about this. But apparently not, because he was glaring at Pike fiercely while his arm circled around her shoulders.

“Commissioner’s orders, _Sergeant_ ,” Pike said stiffly. “Miss Lance has vital information regarding the Green Arrow, who has been revealed to be her boyfriend. The fact he fled from Queen Consolidated before we ever arrived rather than stay put and fight the accusation tells us that Mr. Merlyn’s public accusations are true.”

“What’s Laurel doing here, though?” Tommy demanded to know.

“As I’ve said, Commissioner’s orders,” Pike said. “Miss Lance is a known associate and conspirator of Oliver Queen’s. The Commissioner wanted her in custody before she could join Queen wherever he’s holed up.”

“I was never going to run,” Laurel interjected. “All I’ve done is be rescued and pursue justice for an innocent man. Not exactly prime conspiracy material, _lieutenant_.” The way she said the final word sweetly indicated she planned on seeing that status change if she could help it.

“So you say, Miss Lance, but we’ll soon find out the truth,” Pike said. “According to Mr. Merlyn, Mr. Queen saved you from Ankov. Combined with the fact that you openly worked the Declan case and Green Arrow threatened one of Brodeur’s associates, it is obvious that you worked _with_ the vigilante, and he later saved your life.” He looked at Quentin. “We have to do our jobs, Quentin.” He turned to the uniformed officers. “Put her in Interrogation #1.”

The officers gripped Laurel’s elbows and pulled her away, Quentin watching her with a look of anger and resignation on his face and Tommy looking horrified. He hadn’t expected _Laurel_ to get caught up in this. With how self-righteous Oliver was in thinking he was right in doing what he did, Tommy had expected him to stay at Queen Consolidated and let himself be taken into custody.

Laurel was shoved into a seat in the interrogation room, and then, to her surprise and dismay, she was handcuffed to the table. “I didn’t realize I warranted such caution,” she said acerbically.

“Standard procedure, ma’am,” said one officer stiffly. “The commissioner is going to be handling your interrogation himself.”

“I see,” Laurel said, and she did. Nudocerdo wanted her to feel desperate, feel like she was on the verge of being sent to Iron Heights or, worse, Slabside, both of which she had sent people away to with her work at C.N.R.I. as some of her indictments had been federal, not local, and that merited incarceration at Slabside. Seeing as the Green Arrow was involved with events surrounding a federal task force, if she were incarcerated, it would probably be at Slabside… the same prison Anatoli Knyasev was imprisoned in. No doubt the head of the Bratva would want to get his revenge on Oliver through her if she were sent there, and despite knowing she wouldn’t break in this interrogation, Laurel felt a thrill of fear go through her at the image that came to her mind’s eye, of being cornered in a cell, alone and defenseless, while Knyasev and three shadowy figures loomed over her. Despite herself, Laurel shuddered at the image, and knew that if Nudocerdo was watching he would be pleased with her reaction.

Jean Loring entered the interrogation room a few minutes after Laurel had been left there to simmer. She eyed the cuffs that were biting into Laurel’s slender wrists and clicked her tongue disapprovingly. “Unnecessary use of restraints when you’re clearly not going to leap up and attack,” Jean said disapprovingly, but there was also an almost eager note to her tone. “They are making my case for me. Now, we only have a few minutes before the Commissioner comes in here and tries to force you to bend to his will. I need to know what you plan to do.”

“I’m not betraying Oliver,” Laurel said.

“Laurel, the moment Oliver chose to run instead of standing and facing this, he essentially ended any chance at life as a free man,” Jean said, taking her seat. “But I doubt he would want you to join him in being charged for vigilantism or conspiracy to commit the same. He wouldn’t blame you if you gave the police everything that you have, and I have to urge you to do just that.” Before Laurel could answer, Jean’s phone rang. She pulled it out. “Jean Loring,” she said. Her eyebrows shot up, and she held the phone out towards Laurel. “It’s for you.” She placed the phone against Laurel’s ear.

“Hello?” Laurel said cautiously, knowing who she hoped it was but wondering if he would take the risk.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t think they would target you,” Oliver said on the other end. “I’m sure Jean’s suggested that you tell them everything you know. Laurel, you’re many things, but you’re not a very good liar.” Laurel flushed at this, knowing it was true. “Please, let Jean make a deal for you and give them everything you know. You can even give them the Bunker. Henry and I are scrubbing everything just in case.”

“No, Ollie,” Laurel said. “I won’t give you up. You’re too important to this city.” _You’re too important to_ me _,_ she added silently. “Green Arrow has to stay free and fighting, even if it means I go to prison.”

“Damn it, Laurel, don’t do this!” Oliver begged. “The only reason I can fight for this city is because of you! I lose you and I don’t know if I can keep going!”

“We both know you would be doing this even if we weren’t together, Oliver,” Laurel said. “This is who you are in your bones, and this is who I am. I won’t betray you. Goodbye, Ollie.” Her voice cracked at the last and she nodded at Jean, who hung up on Oliver’s protesting voice. **_*2*_**

“For the record, I agree with whatever Oliver was saying, if what you were saying in response is any indication,” Jean said. “We should make a deal while we can.”

“Their evidence is flimsy and circumstantial, and a lawyer of your caliber is certainly going to be able to bring them to heel, Jean,” Laurel said. Before either woman could say anything more, the door opened, and two detectives strolled in followed by the Commissioner. Nudocerdo glared down at Laurel, a sense of cool satisfaction emanating from him. He didn’t have Green Arrow, but he had Oliver Queen’s Maid Marion, and that would draw the modern-day Robin Hood out of hiding. Now to bait the hook. “Commissioner,” Laurel greeted coolly as the commissioner sat across from him. “Cuffing me, and now two bodyguards? I didn’t realize I represented such a threat.”

“Don’t play coy, Miss Lance,” Nudocerdo said. “Who knows what sort of things Oliver Queen has taught you.”

“Oliver?” Laurel asked, playing at confusion. “Oh, right, you think he’s the Green Arrow. Pretty ridiculous, if you ask me.”

“You’re a poor liar, Miss Lance, and you hide your fear just as poorly,” Nudocerdo said. “Coming clean with us is the only thing standing between you and all the skels at Slabside Penitentiary. Some of which you put there, on your own and with Green Arrow’s help. Do you think the members of the Bratva have so easily forgotten the woman their Pakhan went to great lengths to obtain? Even if Mr. Queen were not Green Arrow, it is obvious that Green Arrow cares a great deal for you. That makes you of interest to us. As it stands, Thomas Merlyn has provided a full witness statement about when Oliver Queen revealed his identity to him. You help no one by obstructing us, Miss Lance, and you could save yourself from a horrible, if brief, stay at Slabside.”

“Are you threatening my client, Commissioner?” Jean asked icily.

“Not at all,” Nudocerdo said. “Just trying to impress upon her how dangerous Slabside could be for her, being an attorney who has helped put so many behind bars there. It would be as dangerous inside for her as for any police officer charged with a crime.” He leaned forward. “Now, Miss Lance, you are going to tell us everything you know about Oliver Queen and his operations as Green Arrow, or you are going to be making friends with some of the very scumbags you put away. It’s your choice.”

**_*DC*_ **

Oliver Queen took a deep breath as he pulled the motorcycle up to the front of the 16th Precinct, where the Major Case Unit and the F.B.I. task force looking into Tempest and the deaths surrounding it were headquartered. There was no one in the immediate area, which was good. He wanted to get into the bullpen before anyone realized who was passing them by, as he had when he turned himself over to Quentin after Ra’s exposed him. But this time, it was to save the woman he loved. He knew Nudocerdo would nail Laurel to the wall and send her to Slabside, where Anatoli would take his revenge, if he didn’t make sure Laurel was protected.

Oliver placed his helmet on his bike, knowing it was the last time he was going to use either of them for a while, and entered the precinct, using a ball cap and keeping his head down to avoid detection. He entered the bullpen to find everyone chattering. He looked around for a specific detective, and found him over by the coffee pot, watching the chattering officers with disgust since they were, based on the snatches of conversation Oliver heard, talking about whether or not they’d be sending the opinionated attorney that had made them look bad more than a few times over the years to Slabside since she wouldn’t give up her vigilante boyfriend.

Quentin Lance was the only member of the S.C.P.D. that Oliver had full confidence in, and it was to him that Oliver made his way. “Hello, Detective,” Oliver said quietly, causing Quentin to jump and slosh coffee down his front. Quentin turned, a scowl on his face, only for astonishment to set in as he recognized just who had spoken. “I’m here to turn myself in to you.” Oliver pulled the ball cap off and let it drop to the floor, holding his hands up in a gesture of surrender.

Conversation fell as police officers and F.B.I. agents alike realized that the quarry they had been hunting for a few hours had just walked right in and they hadn’t even noticed. Alex Danvers looked shell-shocked; she hadn’t expected Queen to do something like this; hell, she was still shocked that the Green Arrow was Queen, though that explained his comment about things he was doing he didn’t want the F.B.I. to know about. That protection detail must’ve had him chafing and wanting to get back out there, risking his life for who knows what reasons and getting a thrill from playing vigilante.

Quentin recovered quickly enough. “Someone get Nudocerdo out here,” he snapped, and one officer shot towards the interrogation rooms as Quentin circled behind Oliver and pulled his hands behind his back, cuffing him as he read Oliver his Miranda rights. Just as Quentin finished, Nudocerdo appeared, along with Jean Loring and a handcuffed Laurel. For a moment, Oliver and Laurel just stared at one another, ignoring the fact that they were both in handcuffs and just memorizing each other’s faces, knowing this might well be the last time they saw one another for a long time.

Then the moment was broken as Nudocerdo spoke, his tone gloating. “So, both Robin Hood, and his Maid Marion,” he said. “Quite the coup.” **_*3*_**

“Not quite, _Commissioner,_ ” Oliver said, drawing out the title and emphasizing it in the same way he would a curse word. “You see, all you have that suggests I’m Green Arrow is a statement from Tommy Merlyn, the new head of Special Projects at Merlyn Global, a division that wishes to rival my company’s own Applied Sciences division. I frequently leave the office for hours at a time and have since I was made C.E.O., something my Chief of Operations will attest to. Everything you have is circumstantial. But I’m willing to give you everything you need in return for one thing: immunity for Dinah Laurel Lance.”

“Ollie!” Laurel shouted in horror.

“It’s alright, Laurel,” Oliver said. “I’ve got everything handled. Trust me.” Laurel stared at him, then nodded. She knew he wouldn’t do this without a plan. But what that plan was, she had no idea.

“I’ll have the D.A. here to go over the details of any deal with your attorney,” Nudocerdo said after a moment. “But until any such deal is made, both you and your girlfriend will be put into our holding cells. I won’t have either of you making a run for it.”

“That is certainly fair,” Oliver said. “In the meantime, I have to go over the details of what I expect from the deal with my attorney. I assume there’s a room we can use?” Nudocerdo nodded and gestured for Quentin to escort Oliver there. Quentin guided him passed Laurel, who looked at him worriedly. Despite her trust in him, she wondered if this wasn’t some harebrained idea that he concocted just to save her from prison.

**_*DC*_ **

After Oliver had made clear which things were non-negotiable to him so that Jean could use them to make whatever deal necessary with the District Attorney (the new one, mind, as Kate Spencer had finally been fired by the mayor and replaced by Adam Donner), he and Laurel found themselves sharing a cell. They sat on the cot together, Oliver’s arm wrapped around Laurel’s shoulders. “It’s going to be okay, Laurel,” he said. “You’re going to be fine.”

“What about you?” Laurel said, turning and placing her left hand on his right cheek, turning his head to face her. “Ollie, this city was just starting to hope again. If it loses you…”

“Trust me,” Oliver said. “I know how things are going to go down. I won’t tell you, because I know how worried you’d be if you knew what was coming. But trust me, Laurel. I’ve got everything handled.” He kissed her on the cheek. “I love you,” he said softly. “That is never going to change, no matter how many obstacles are thrown up in front of us. They can pull us apart for now, but we’ll find our way back to each other. I _will_ be free of this, Laurel.”

“I don’t see how,” Laurel said.

“Tempest,” Oliver said. “Once I expose them and their leader, once I prove what I was doing was necessary, I have contacts that can make sure I receive a pardon.”

“That’ll just deal with what you’ve done up until that point, though,” Laurel said softly. “I know you, Ollie. I know who you are in your bones. You can’t stop being Green Arrow. You’ll go out again after being pardoned, and you’ll be arrested for it.”

“Don’t give up hope, Laurel,” said softly, kissing her softly on the lips. “Hope is the key to that future I spoke of. As long as the fire of hope is burning in even one soul, that fight endures.”

The two simply sat and held each other until Quentin and Hilton came back. Quentin looked uncomfortable at interrupting such a moment between his daughter and the man she somehow still loved after everything he had done to break her heart and knowing that what he and Hilton were doing was going to break her heart all over again. “D.A.’s here, and he and your lawyer have come to a deal, Queen,” Quentin said gruffly. “Come on. Time to make that confession.” _And free my daughter from the situation you put her in,_ was left unsaid, but everyone knew that that was among the things Quentin wanted to throw at Oliver.

Oliver stood and moved to the door, which Hilton opened. He stepped out, allowing Quentin to cuff him, and noting that this time around the cuffs weren’t as tight as he would’ve imagined Quentin doing. Maybe the older man was feeling guilty about essentially breaking his daughter’s heart. Quentin and Hilton guided Oliver through the bullpen towards Interrogation #1, where Nudocerdo, Donner, and Jean were waiting. “We managed to make a deal that gets us all what we want,” Jean told Oliver. “A rare feat. But as long as you cooperate, there won’t be anything that can be done to void this deal. Especially the protection you’ve put in place for Laurel.”

“Then let’s get started,” Oliver said. And with that, he confessed to everything he had done that they would believe since coming back from the future, which meant most everything except for the murder of Harrison Wells. There was no believable scenario in which people would understand his killing of Wells, and he couldn’t have conceivably learned about what the accelerator was going to do since Hartley Rathaway had just revealed the delay on the activation of the particle accelerator due to ‘design flaws’ on the part of Harrison Wells.

He also revealed the location of the Bunker, which was a requirement of the deal. That was fine. He had long since set up a secondary base, and Henry would have scrubbed anything of note from the systems at the Bunker and made sure to clean up any sign he had been living there. The only thing Oliver regretted was that he would have to sacrifice the RQ-1141 since that was the most recognizable thing and they would expect him to hand over his gear. His original suit and hood were already waiting for him at the secondary base. 

Once Oliver had signed his confession, Nudocerdo informed him he was being transported to Slabside Penitentiary. Oliver said nothing, knowing that this was a lie even without his ability to tell when someone wasn’t being honest with him. Henry and he had learned what Nudocerdo’s plan was by listening in on his conversation. Somewhere along the route to Slabside, probably while they were still in the city, the prison transport would pull over, Oliver would be hauled out, and then die while trying to ‘escape’. Except Oliver would escape, and the deal he had made never said he couldn’t. Considering he was giving them everything they could ever want, he had guessed (correctly) they would never think he would try to escape. But he would, and Laurel would be safe from prosecution because he had complied with the terms of the deal.

Oliver was led out into the bullpen just as Laurel was being released. Laurel ignored the police around him and marched right up to him. She put her hands on both sides of his face and guided him downwards until their lips met. More than a few officers and agents’ eyebrows shot up. Oliver and Laurel ignored them as they poured everything they had into the kiss until they were forced to end it. “I love you, Oliver Queen,” Laurel said. “And my heart will always be yours.”

“And I love you, Dinah Laurel Lance,” Oliver said. “We will be together again. I swear.” **_*4*_**

“Enough,” Nudocerdo barked. “Miss Lance, you’re free to go.” Laurel reluctantly let her father pull her away and head out the doors. Oliver was led in the other direction, towards the elevators, where he was taken down to the underground garage where the transport was waiting. Oliver was loaded onboard along with four men in S.W.A.T. gear. Oliver sat in silence as the transport headed out.

“So,” he said quietly, “where’s it going to happen?”

“The Glades,” said the man across from him. “Commissioner thought it’d be fitting.”

“I suppose that’s a fair assessment,” Oliver said. “And I appreciate the honesty. It’s refreshing after dealing with the types I have.” Oliver fell silent. The odds were admittedly not good, and it was obvious Nudocerdo had picked cops loyal to him to handle the “transfer”. But he had faced odds like these before and come out on top. He would just need to be a little more brutal than usual if he wanted to live through this. Oliver remained silent for the rest of the drive into the Glades, mentally preparing himself. Eventually, the transport slowed and turned.

“It’s time,” said the cop across from Oliver. He nodded to the two by the door, who opened it as the transport stopped and stepped out, taking up positions to keep an eye on Oliver as he exited. The cop across from Oliver gestured, and Oliver exited the transport, slowly dislocating his right thumb and moving to stand off to the side as the other two guards exited, and then the driver and the driver’s guard. They formed a half circle around Oliver. “You’ve had a good run, Queen,” said the same cop, the only one who seemed willing to talk to Oliver. “But vigilantes don’t last long on these streets, even when they’re billionaires. These streets belong to Tempest.” **_*5*_**

“I’m not finished yet,” Oliver said. “But thank you for confirming where your loyalties lie. This makes what happens here a whole lot easier.” Oliver slipped his cuffs, putting his thumb back into place, and then leaped forward, delivering a knife-hand strike to the driver’s throat, before forcing him into a position in front of him, guarding Oliver from any attacks. Oliver grabbed the driver’s pistol and fired from behind the safety of his human shield, kneecapping the other five men, who shrieked in pain as they went down.

Oliver tossed the driver forward, shooting him in the back of the knee joint, and then ran out of the alleyway they had driven into and onto the sidewalk. He turned left, racing away as fast as he could. He heard the roar of an engine and a red Mustang pulled up alongside him, the passenger side door being flung open. “Get in!” Roy Harper shouted. Oliver wasted no time, diving into the likely-stolen car and shutting the door as Roy revved the engine and took off down the street.

“Thank you for this,” Oliver said, looking at Roy, “but why were you following us in the first place?”

“Because I knew they’d try to bump you off and I bet you’d be able to escape that,” Roy said. “You’re the best hope we’ve had in decades the way people talk. I couldn’t let you die.”

Oliver nodded. “Take us to 1305 Schmidt Drive,” Oliver said. “I have a safehouse of sorts there.” Roy nodded and headed in that direction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter.
> 
> Who saw the whole ‘Roy coming to help Oliver escape’ thing coming?
> 
> Chapter Notes:
> 
> *1* I wanted to reinforce the fact that many of the people working at C.N.R.I. have the same values Laurel does and would back her one hundred percent because they believe in her and her vision for their legal aid office.
> 
> *2* I believe it fits with Laurel’s character, both in canon and in this story, that she would sacrifice herself if it meant keeping Oliver free and clear, despite the very real dangers she would face at either Iron Heights or Slabside due to helping put people like Cyrus Vanch away in her time at C.N.R.I.
> 
> *3* Under any other circumstances, I can imagine the vicious diatribe Laurel would throw at Nudocerdo for calling her Maid Marion.
> 
> *4* Writing this scene and the one in the holding cell where they were trying to draw comfort from each other was kinda hard to write because I knew these were going to be the last Lauriver scenes I was able to write for a while outside of maybe encrypted phone calls.
> 
> *5* For those wondering, yes, this is an implication that Tempest had a role, however minor, in the events that led to Ted Grant giving up vigilantism. Considering how embedded Tempest was supposed to be in Starling and their interest in the Glades, they would certainly want to snuff out any signs of hope, like vigilantes such as Ted and Isaac.


	48. Perspectives III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Here's the Tropes page. I'm enjoying reading all the tropes that pop up in the story. 
> 
> https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Fanfic/ArrowRebirth

Oliver Queen and Roy Harper were silent as the latter drove through the Glades, taking a slightly erratic course in case any cops picked up their tail. Unlikely, since all of the cops who could’ve seen the car had been kneecapped and wouldn’t be able to see the license plate on the car. Finally, Oliver spoke. “While I have a source of information on scumbags like Adam Hunt, my information is about five years out of date. I know there has to have been changes in the power structure here in the Glades in that time. If I come to you for intel, can you get it for me?”

Roy looked over at him. “Seriously?” he asked. “You’re going to stick around even though you’re going to be the most wanted man in Starling City?”

“I care about Starling,” was Oliver’s answer as he turned to look out the window, “and the people who live here, who call these streets home. Someone has to fight for them against the corruption that is choking this city. I am going to fight for them until there is no breath left in my body, and then some more, because our city deserves to be free of the criminal elite who see nothing wrong with stepping on the throats of other people in order to elevate themselves above their fellow human beings. But I’m still a man, Roy; I still bleed, and I can’t be everywhere at once. So, I’m asking you, will you help me fight for this city?”

Roy was silent. Then he asked, “How did you know my name? I never told you.”

“I looked into you after you stepped in to try and help the waitress that night,” Oliver said, which was the truth since he needed a ‘paper trail’ for when he brought Roy into the fold. “Not many people are willing to stand up and fight odds like those, Roy. I’ve been meaning to approach you for a while, but things like a certain mob war kept my attention focused elsewhere.”

Roy stayed quiet for the rest of the drive to the address Oliver had given him, which just so happened to be the building that Sebastian Blood would have used for his campaign office and which later became Oliver’s own campaign office. Oliver had an idea for something to take up the space itself, which he would have to run by Sara, since her involvement was key to what he had planned for the office front. “I’ll help you,” Roy said. “But I don’t want to just be feeding you intel. This is my _home_ , Queen. I want to fight for it.”

“Come back here tomorrow, without a stolen car, and we’ll talk more,” Oliver promised. Roy nodded shortly, and Oliver opened the car door. “Until tomorrow, Roy.” Oliver got out of the car and closed it. Roy didn’t waste any time and sped away. Oliver watched him go, a wistful smile on his face, and then entered the office space. He opened the hidden door and stepped onto the elevator, musing over the fact that he really was limiting Slade’s options to attack him from. Blood would want his campaign office in the Glades, to prove how loyal he was to the people here, and this was the only space with an underground lair built-in where one could perform nefarious activities, like pumping someone full of Mirakuru without their screams behind heard. For now, Laurel had ownership of Q.C. and custodianship of the Queen fortune, and when (not if, but _when_ ) Oliver was cleared he would gain both back. Both of Slade’s primary methods of targeting him, through his company and his city, had been compromised. Of course, this also meant that he might not see Slade’s new avenues of attack coming as a result. The downside to changing things as he had.

The elevator door opened, and Oliver entered his new base of operations, which he had no intention of calling the Bunker. The name had applied to the A.R.G.U.S. operations center where he had been operating from all this time because it was hardened against communication and tracking. This place shared no such luxury, so Oliver and Fyff would have to be careful with any communication, even with the encrypted cell phones they would have on hand. They had had to leave the one Trimble knew about back at the Bunker, along with the RQ-1141 and Oliver’s bow, since there had been plenty of close-up shots of Oliver in action that leaving just any bow would’ve shown Oliver planned to avoid prison time. He needed them to have everything, or so it would seem to them, make Malcolm and Tempest relax and believe Green Arrow was successfully neutered. Soon, Oliver would be striking against Tempest itself; it was time for the gloves to come off.

“So, what’re we going to call this place?” Henry (since they were going to be living together it made no sense to keep calling him Fyff in Oliver’s head) asked from where he was seated at the new bank of computers, familiarizing himself with the set-up. “Bunker 2.0? The Office?”

“The Quiver,” Oliver said after a moment, and again blamed too much time spent around Barry and Kara for his willingness to occasionally assign dorky codenames to things. “I’m going to get some sleep. You should probably do the same. We’ll give Merlyn and Tempest twenty-four hours to believe they’ve won. Then it’s back to work.”

“Sounds good, boss,” Henry said. Oliver and Henry both moved to where their cots were waiting. They had left a single cot back at the Bunker, since Green Arrow had been out at all hours during the mob war and it would be assumed by most he had stuck to his base of operations during that time. Henry was asleep within minutes, a light snore filling the air, but Oliver remained laying on his back, looking at the ceiling. Despite his words of bravado, and his belief that he would find _some_ way to get back to Laurel as he had promised her that he would, doubts niggled at him. Not so much about him fulfilling that promise (Waller would owe him that much for getting Task Force X off the ground), but about what came after. Oliver knew that what Laurel had said in that holding cell was true, because he had told Thea himself: Oliver Queen is Green Arrow, and Green Arrow is Oliver Queen. The two were inseparable now, perhaps as they should always have been.

Oliver reflected on the past month and a half and realized that this was always going to happen. He was always going to be exposed and exposed in a way that he wouldn’t be able to put the genie back in the bottle. His speeches as both Oliver Queen and Green Arrow had been practically identical. His condemnation of the state of the city and the ineffectual police force had been too heavy-handed. He had been open in his desire to see the city change, promising things like opening the steel mill again and other such things. As he looked back over the past six weeks, more and more damning moments came rushing back and he gave a humorless, if soft, chuckle. _Force of habit from working with Tina and the S.C.P.D., I suppose,_ he thought to himself. He had gotten so used to people _knowing_ he was Green Arrow that he hadn’t really thought about hiding it since he had made his deal with Watson. He wondered if forcing him to work for the S.C.P.D. had been another stage in the Ninth Circle’s plans, plans that had come to fruition in the dark future that his children had come from. **_*1*_**

Oliver closed his eyes as a wave of grief flooded over him as he remembered that nothing about that future, the good as well as the bad, was going to come to pass now. His daughter had been erased from history, if not from his own actions in parting ways with Felicity than from Felicity’s murder. His son would _never_ know who his father was; Oliver refused to consider the possibility. William, like Thea, wouldn’t be able to understand that this was something that he _had_ to do. Because that was who he was; he was someone who did his duty, no matter the personal cost. Once Tommy had exposed him, Oliver had known he would have to take action to protect those he cared about most, such as Laurel and, to a lesser extent, Sara. Thea, of course, was far removed from all of this now, living in Metropolis.

Oliver mused over what the Barry, Kara, and Sara he had erased from existence would think of his being exposed as Green Arrow five years ahead of schedule, and in such a way that there was no putting the genie back in the bottle, like he had when Cayden James and his Cabal had exposed him five years from now. Barry would probably support him in secret. Kara, based on his interactions with her, would either be fretting over what this could mean for all the heroes who followed him or trying to figure out if there wasn’t a way to spin this whole thing so his exposure had a positive effect on things. Sara would be telling him he had slipped up big time and that he needed to find some way to make this right, if only for her sister’s sake.

Slowly, Oliver drifted off to sleep, uneasy though it was, as he revisited some of his worst moments: Tommy’s death, Moira’s original death, Sara’s deaths, Laurel’s death, the destruction of Lian Yu, finding out Barry had been forced to sacrifice himself to save Central City, learning about the dark future his children had inhabited, and his last stand against the Anti-Monitor’s Shadow Demons.

**_*DC*_ **

Dinah Laurel Lance and her father were sitting down for a late dinner with Sara, who had just been released from Starling General with the admonition to take it easy, when Quentin received a phone call. “Lance,” he said, giving his daughters an apologetic look, which faded to a poleaxed look as he listened to what the caller had to say. “He did _what?_ ” This caught the sisters’ attention and they looked at their father curiously, both wondering if the ‘he’ was a certain archer they were both acquainted with. “Uh-huh. I see. Well, no sign of him here. I’ll call if that changes, but I doubt it.” Quentin hung up, then gave his eldest a look. “Did you know Queen was gonna jump his guards and escape?”

“He escaped custody?” Laurel asked, surprised.

“Apparently, he took out his guards while in the Glades,” Quentin said. “But somehow, he kneecapped not only the guards in the back, but the driver and the driver’s guard, _with_ the driver’s sidearm.” Quentin saw his daughters exchange glances. “You don’t have to say it, there’s something fishy here, and I’m gonna find out what,” he said. “I don’t like the idea that it was dirty cops transporting him, but that’s the only thing I can think of.”

“I don’t think there’s any question of that, Dad,” Sara said, shifting slightly in her seat and wincing. “But the question is… who were they working for? Organized crime or someone in the police department that wanted to rub out the city’s vigilante?”

“I don’t have an answer for that, Sara,” Quentin said, and he hated that he couldn’t tell his youngest that there was no way someone in the department had put a hit out on Queen. Because he had seen the way Nudocerdo acted. What really made Quentin scared was that if Queen hadn’t done what he did, made that deal to save Laurel, then it was possible Laurel would’ve been a target for whoever it was as well. Speaking of which… “Laurel, you gotta be prepared for Nudocerdo to come after you now Queen’s escaped,” Quentin said gingerly.

“He won’t be able to,” Laurel said. “I called Jean earlier and asked her about the deal. The deal was contingent on Oliver confessing to everything and leading the police to his base of operations. There was no requirement that he be incarcerated. It may have been implied, but it wasn’t stated, and under the law, that means the deal isn’t void. Nudocerdo can’t come after me, something the D.A. will point out to him.” Laurel’s lips curled into a smirk. “Donner is a political animal, from the sounds of it. He won’t want the commissioner coming after me so soon again, not when there was no broken faith on the deal.” **_*2*_**

“You’re sure?” Quentin asked carefully.

“I’m sure, Daddy,” Laurel said softly. “I’m safe. At least from legal attacks. But if Nudocerdo or someone did put a hit on Ollie…” she shrugged, and Quentin was concerned about his daughter’s rather blasé attitude about the fact her life was potentially in danger yet again.

“I’ll stay with her, Dad,” Sara said. “I may not be one hundred percent, but I won’t let her get hurt. Not again.”

“Sara, it wasn’t your fault,” Laurel tried again to tell her little sister.

“You got hurt on _my watch_ ,” Sara emphasized stubbornly. “It’s not happening again. Deal with it. Your little sister is your unofficial bodyguard.”

Quentin sighed. “I don’t like it, but since we can’t trust my colleagues this time… Just be careful, both of you, will ya?”

“We will, Dad,” Laurel said.

**_*DC*_ **

Clark Kent stood on the balcony of the hotel room that he shared with Lois Lane. It was their last night in Starling City before they were due to return to Metropolis, and they were returning with one whopper of a story, which Lois had already put the finishing touches on and sent to Perry for approval of. With any luck, it would be on the front page and selling papers across the country by the time their plane set down in Metropolis. But Clark’s mind wasn’t occupied by the fact that they had just landed a story that would shake the foundations of everything people thought; no, it was because Clark’s own foundations had been shaken by the revelation that the man he had met at the charity gala last night, the man who had been so charming and effusive in his praise of Laurel Lance and C.N.R.I., was also the vigilante that had been exposing crime and corruption at the highest levels of society in Starling before going on to defend everyone from the fallout of the mob war that had hit this city.

Oliver Queen was the Green Arrow. It was still a sentence that hadn’t quite sunk in, but the ramifications it had on Clark were life-altering. Oliver Queen, an ordinary man with no special powers or anything but his wit and his apparent skills in hand-to-hand combat to keep him safe, had made the choice to take to the streets of his city and try and make it a better place. There were rumors of Batman and had been for years, but the Batman wasn’t a tangible person you could point to and say, “Look, here is a hero. Here is someone who stands up for the people when no one else will.” The Batman was a rumor, a myth, a shadow. But the Green Arrow was ever-present, larger than life, and now, he had a name. He was a person, a known quantity, someone who had wants and dreams, who had someone he clearly loved and who loved him; he was a real person, an example that could be pointed to.

Clark took off his glasses and looked out at Starling City with his perfect 20/20 vision, tilting his head and listening to the sounds of the city. He listened to several different conversations, all of them centered around the Green Arrow and his exposure as Oliver Queen, who had supposedly turned himself over to the police in order to save his girlfriend from going to prison. The question being asked was, “What will happen now?” What would happen to Starling City without the Green Arrow? What would happen to the hope that the vigilante had given the people here? What would happen to those who profited from the suffering of others, who delighted in their torment because there was no one to take a stand and to tell them, “No more!”

For his entire life, Clark had been afraid of stepping into the light, of showing the world what he could do. He had been afraid that people would shy away in fear, that they would scream and call in the men in white coats who would do their best to cut him open and find out what made him tick. He had ignored the cries for help he had heard all of his life, using his powers sparingly in the course of his duties as a reporter for the _Daily Planet_ , mostly to get the scoop on when some shipment of illicit substances was coming in at the port. But now, he wondered if he shouldn’t be doing something _more_. If a human with so many vulnerabilities could do it, why couldn’t he? He had spent years perfecting his slumped posture and cultivating the persona of an eager yet haphazard reporter, with Lois often coming first in the byline (which he was fine with as that meant it was her photo that was accompanying the byline). If he had a completely different attitude and presentation of himself, why couldn’t he do the same things for Metropolis that Oliver Queen had done for his city? **_*3*_**

**_*DC*_ **

Malcolm Merlyn was furious. Nudocerdo’s elite squad had managed to screw up a simple hit by underestimating what Oliver Queen was capable. Of course someone of Green Arrow’s reported skills was going to have the ability to slip out of his restraints! The fools had practically lined up to be shot by him! And from the sounds of what the downed officers had said, someone had come to help Oliver, a resident of the Glades, no doubt, who wanted to keep the spark of hope alive. And alive it would be, once the news hit in the morning that the Green Arrow had slipped out of the grasp of the police. Malcolm snarled to himself as he took a drink of the brandy he kept on hand, glaring balefully at the skyscraper that was the headquarters of Queen Consolidated. All of this time, the Green Arrow had been _right under his nose_ , had been his own _fucking godson_ , and he hadn’t been willing to see it because it was someone he had felt a connection with, a connection he had never even felt with his own son since the death of Rebecca.

Malcolm closed his eyes and focused on the calming techniques that Al-Owal had taught him when he first joined the League of Assassins, centering himself so that he could approach this without emotion but with logic. He once more focused on looking across the city at Queen Consolidated. Oliver was cut off from his resources. His base of operations had been compromised, his gear confiscated and loaded into evidence boxes that would be kept in a secure facility that not even the vigilante could break into. Oliver’s ability to threaten the Undertaking was severely crippled, and even if he did manage to recuperate and bring Green Arrow back into play, he was going to be the most hunted man in Starling City. Malcolm’s lips curled into a cruel smirk as he realized that the police would hunt the very person who would be fighting to save them from Malcolm’s wrath, as most officers simply couldn’t afford a place outside of the Glades. It was a delicious irony, he decided.

Oliver had managed to arrange for Laurel Lance to receive ownership of Queen Consolidated and custodianship of the Queen fortune according to something that had come across Malcolm’s desk as evening descended. Laurel was a very good attorney by all accounts, but she would have no knowledge of how to run a business. Most likely, she would appoint someone like Ned Foster as C.E.O. and leave it to him. That would allow Malcolm to approach Emiko Adachi, who was a representative of the Ninth Circle and a natural ally for Malcolm, seeing as the Undertaking was the sort of thing that they got involved with in the first place. With Emiko onboard, everything would be back on schedule, without having to threaten Oliver into compliance.

But should Oliver come to threaten Tempest’s interests again, well, Malcolm had three pressure points to exploit, now that his agents were in place in Central City: Oliver’s girlfriend, Laurel Lance, and his secret family, Samantha and William Clayton. If necessary, Malcolm would even exploit his own daughter, something Tommy had shared with him after he returned to Starling for the charity gala Oliver had thrown for C.N.R.I. Should Green Arrow prove to continue to be a thorn in Tempest’s side, using that leverage would become a matter of necessity. **_*4*_**

**_*DC*_ **

Roy Harper smiled grimly as the news reported the Green Arrow’s escape, aided by person or persons unknown. He hadn’t really known what he was going to do tonight when he decided to follow the transport, which he had known about thanks to a stolen police radio. But he had felt like he needed to do something. Then the transport had pulled into that alleyway, and he had frozen because the thought he had had, that the police were going to try to off Oliver Queen, had just become very real. Then he had heard the gunshots, and felt his heart stop for a moment, believing his moment of indecision had killed the man who had brought hope back to the Glades.

Then Queen had raced out of the alley and started down the street, and Roy had known that _now_ was the time to _act_. He had pulled the car up, flung open the passenger door, and brought Queen to what was apparently a safehouse, though how an empty office space counted as a safehouse, Roy didn’t know. It sure wouldn’t hide Queen if someone looked in and saw him sleeping on the ground.

But it was Queen’s request and the lack of denial regarding Roy’s wishes about doing more to help the Glades than just providing intel on the major players that had sprung up in the past five years that had captured Roy’s imagination. Queen had asked _him_ for help, because he somehow saw Roy as a kindred spirit, if his comment about people being willing to jump into danger was any indication. Then, when Roy had pushed for the idea of joining Queen in a greater capacity, Queen hadn’t outright denied Roy’s request. Instead, he had told Roy to come back tomorrow and they would talk about it. Roy had every intention of being at that empty office space tomorrow morning and making his case. But the way Queen spoke, it didn’t seem like it would take much convincing. Roy remembered how Queen had said he had been meaning to approach him for a while. What if Queen already _wanted_ him as a partner, saw something in him that made him want to train Roy to be like him, to be a vigilante fighting for the city?

Roy didn’t know what tomorrow’s conversation would lead to, but he knew what he _hoped_ it would lead to. With that thought in mind, Roy headed for bed, hoping he would be able to sleep after the exhilaration of doing what he had done and the anticipation of the coming conversation with Queen about helping him bring hope back to Starling City.

**_*DC*_ **

Bruce Wayne was contemplative as he examined what Oracle had just sent him. Queen had confessed to everything and revealed his base of operations, severely compromising his operation unless he had a back-up, all to save his girlfriend from prison. Bruce had told Queen that it was better to keep her at a distance; now, he would be forced to, and they would both be broken over it, which was only to be expected. As it was, Queen was now a fugitive and would be hunted down as such. He had escaped from the police transport and gone to ground in the city, but with his base discovered, there was no chance of him having a safe haven unless, as already noted, he had a secondary base of operations. If so, then his chance of coming back from this, even temporarily, had risen.

But in the end, Queen would be hunted down by either the S.C.P.D. or the F.B.I. and, thanks to the circumstances of his escape, his being arrested instead of shot on sight were low to non-existent. That was what happened when you, as Queen had put it at the gala, showed your true self to others. Queen had done so as both himself and as Green Arrow, and now he was reaping the consequences, and those he cared about would as well.

Bruce turned his attention to issues closer to home. There was a young man, very angry, who was making trouble in the Narrows. Jason Todd. Perhaps it was time for Batman to try and take the young man under his wing. **_*5*_**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter.
> 
> Chapter Notes:
> 
> *1* For those wondering, I always had the inkling that this is where the story would lead, as far back as the chapter titled “Guardian Angel”, where Oliver escaped from that private ambulance. He is simply so used to acting openly and people knowing he’s Green Arrow that he doesn’t know how to turn that side of him off. But I didn’t know how it would get there or how long it would take, if it happened.
> 
> *2* Like Oliver mused at one point, he knew what was likely to happen and that he would have to escape. So, he made Laurel’s safety contingent upon his confession and giving up the Bunker, not on his incarceration. It was merely implied, not outright stated, and how things are worded are important in legal agreements.
> 
> *3* I said a while back that I was going to start setting things up to begin taking some of the pressure off of Oliver. This is what I meant: Earth-1’s Superman coming into play.
> 
> *4* Ah, Malcolm, ever-conspiring, and ever coming to the wrong conclusions. We love to hate you and fuck over your dreams.
> 
> *5* Figured Bruce would have this attitude towards Oliver being arrested after their little back and forth at the charity gala. Ah, and Jason Todd makes his appearance, or at least gets the honorable mention.


	49. The New Paradigm

Starling City woke up to news that startled them and brought many of them hope: Oliver Queen, the Green Arrow, had _escaped_ from police custody and was now being hunted by the S.C.P.D., a fact that didn’t fill many with dread as the mob war had proven just how ineffectual the police department was. Susan Williams managed to maintain a professional air about the recent press release by the S.C.P.D. regarding Oliver’s escape, but she still had a small smile on her face as she reported the Green Arrow was still at large, a smile echoed on many faces across the city. For many, knowing the Green Arrow was still out there meant they were safe from crime and corruption, that their guardian angel was still in play.

The guardian angel in question was just putting together a cup of coffee in the area that had been made into the kitchen of the Quiver, a bowl of instant oatmeal in front of him. On the other side of the table was Henry Fyff, who was wolfing down his toast and scrambled eggs. Because Henry was pretty much restricted to their base of operations aside from occasional supply runs, Oliver had made sure the kitchen came fully stocked and equipped so that Henry wouldn’t have to keep eating M.R.E.’s. Facilities had also been added, just as they had existed in the Bunker in the original timeline at Felicity’s request and at the A.R.G.U.S. operations center that Oliver had named the Bunker out of a sense of nostalgia. The plan was always to abandon the Bunker eventually and move shop to the Quiver, but Oliver had held onto the Bunker because it gave him a sense of legitimacy. He knew Waller wouldn’t be happy about the Bunker being burned and exposed, but there had been no choice. He had had to leave all of the arrows he had had forged, his bow, and the RQ-1141 behind to make sure the police and everyone else thought they were crippling his operation.

“So, what’s the plan for today, boss?” Henry asked, loading some of his eggs onto his excessively buttered toast and eating it that way, something Oliver ignored in the way he had ignored Rene’s excesses regarding Big Belly Burger.

“Roy Harper will be coming by at some point,” Oliver said. “He’ll be our contact in the Glades, and I’ll be training him, as well.”

“Training?” Henry asked, perplexed.

“This is a big city, Henry,” Oliver said. “As much as I’d like to be, I can’t be everywhere at once. I had hoped that Sara would help me, but she wasn’t really keen and now she’s healing from being shot. She won’t be able to do anything for a while. Neither will Roy, but I can’t keep hoping Sara will join me. I need a partner, and Roy Harper is one of the only people I’ve met whose willing to put himself on the line for other people. He’s done that twice now, first with the waitress and then with me, last night.”

“Alright,” Henry said with a shrug after a moment. “I guess it’s good to have a partner who can help you with stuff out there while I do the tech stuff.”

“Speaking of, how are the new computers working out?” Oliver asked. “I know they’re not A.R.G.U.S.-level, but I hope they’re serviceable.”

“They are,” Henry said, “and once we get hooked into A.R.G.U.S. feeds again we’ll be good to go. You’ll have to call Waller to get that authorized since it’s a civilian system.”

“I’ll handle that now,” Oliver said. “Though I half-expect her to say no.”

“If that’s the case, we’re gonna be limited in what we get,” Henry warned, and Oliver nodded as he went to the computers and picked up the encrypted phone, they had brought with them. He opened it and selected Waller’s contact.

“Oliver,” Waller greeted as she answered. “I expected you to call sooner. I’m not very happy about the operations center we leased to you being exposed. That could compromise A.R.G.U.S. as well.”

“Henry assures me that everything was scrubbed from the computers,” Oliver informed her. “He also says we need to hook our new location’s computers into A.R.G.U.S. feeds if we’re to continue being as effective as we have been. I’ve been preparing this location for weeks, Amanda. I assure you, it’s as secure as I could make it.”

“I will have Agent Michaels come to oversee the process and do her own assessment of the location,” Waller decided. “If she deems it potentially compromising, we will need to implement new security measures before we can grant you access to A.R.G.U.S. feeds. You understand, of course.”

“I do,” Oliver confirmed. “We have no pressing matters at the moment, Amanda. I’m allowing Tempest to breathe easy, so that when I start hitting them again, they’ll be blindsided. We’re not out of this fight yet.”

“I suspected nothing less from you, Oliver,” Waller replied. “Agent Michaels will be by this afternoon with our newest asset to begin vetting the location.”

“We’re calling it the Quiver,” Oliver felt compelled to add. Yes, definitely too much time around Barry and Kara.

“How very… quaint, Oliver,” Waller said, and Oliver could swear there was a hint of amusement in her voice. But that couldn’t be. Waller didn’t _do_ amusement or anything resembling having humanity. He was probably just imagining it.

Oliver hung up and turned to Henry. “Agent Michaels and A.R.G.U.S.’s newest asset will be here this afternoon.”

“Sounds good,” Henry said, taking their dishes to the sink to soak.

“While I wait for Roy, I’m going to begin breaking in the new bow,” Oliver said, and moved to the archery range he had set up, where a black case rested. He had been forced to leave behind the bow that Talia had gifted him along with his uniform as his ‘graduation present’ because images of that bow had made it to the Internet and the police might’ve doubted the Bunker’s authenticity without the bow being present. Oliver, who had been trained in both recurve and compound bows by Talia while in Russia, had used a mix of both throughout his seven years fighting for Star(ling) City. While he had certainly favored his original bow during that first year, and had used it since starting his crusade again, he had found that when going up against enemies who could match him blow for blow, it was better to have the sturdier compound bow to block their attacks. So, this new bow, like the one Felicity had had specially-made for him in the summer following the Undertaking, was a compound bow. He had intended to use it for the first time when he went against Merlyn at Christmas, assuming things played out the same. But now, he needed a bow, and so it’s debut would have to be moved up. **_*1*_**

**_*DC*_ **

Laurel Lance woke up on her father’s bed, instantly reaching out and finding someone in bed with her. She smiled softly for a moment, then remembrance set in. It wasn’t Oliver in her father’s bed with her; it was her sister. She would be signing the lease for her own apartment in the same building as the loft she had been staying in with Oliver later today and handling her move from her old apartment, but she and Sara had been forced to stay with their father last night because the loft was being turned over by the police and had been declared a crime scene. Laurel had scoffed at hearing that; they weren’t going to find anything about Oliver’s life as Green Arrow at the loft! She and Sara would also be shopping for furniture for the second bedroom in Laurel’s new apartment, which Sara would be taking during her convalescence and self-appointed time as Laurel’s bodyguard.

Sara turned over from where she had been laying and stared at her sister for a moment. “You woke up and thought it was all a bad dream, didn’t you?” she asked Laurel softly.

“I wanted it to be,” Laurel whispered back. “The thought that he’s out there, being hunted…”

“Ollie’s strong, and he clearly knows this city better than the cops,” Sara said, scooting closer and pulling her sister into a hug. “He’s gonna get through this, and so will you. You’re my big, strong sister. You’re gonna be fine, and when all this is over, you’re going to have the man you love back in bed with you.” Sara’s lips quirked into a wicked grin. “Though maybe not _this_ bed. Dad would freak out.”

Despite herself, Laurel laughed. Sara chuckled herself, then winced when it stretched her tender stomach muscles. They heard a huff of air from the door, indicating Quentin had heard _that_ part of the conversation. It had both sisters giggling, and despite himself, Quentin shook his head and smiled. He knew his daughters’ optimism was misplaced; Queen was a criminal and he would have to go prison in the end. But for now, Quentin wouldn’t rob his eldest of what she needed to push through. All he could do was be there when reality set in and comfort her as her dreams for the future were shattered forever. He just hoped she wouldn’t turn to the bottle like he had; he would have to keep an eye on her as things played out.

**_*DC*_ **

Oliver stood in the center of elevator as the door opened and the false wall slid away, revealing a startled Roy Harper. “Get in, Roy,” Oliver said quietly. Roy stepped into the elevator, which closed behind him along with the false wall, and the elevator began to descend. “I hoped you would come,” Oliver said. “Now, to answer the request you made last night, I am willing to make you my partner, but if we do this, we do it my way. You follow my orders, you do the training I set for you, you pay attention when I’m trying to tell you everything you need to know. One day, you’ll be as skilled as I am and be every inch the guardian that this city needs. But that day will take some work to get to, Roy. Are you ready to put the effort in?”

“I am,” Roy said firmly.

“Good,” Oliver said as the elevator opened. “Welcome to the Quiver, my new base of operations.” He gestured Roy to follow him out of the elevator, and they were greeted with the sight of an unkempt man with black hair and glasses muttering over a bank of computers. “Roy, this is Henry Fyff, who from now on will have the codename Oversight while we’re in the field. Henry, this is Roy Harper. When in the field, Roy, you’ll be codenamed Arsenal.”

“Arsenal, huh?” Roy asked. “There a reason for that name?”

“Well, I could always call you Speedy, but that name’s really reserved for my little sister,” Oliver said, lips twitching. He knew that with the way Thea was going, the likelihood she and Roy would become a thing was rare, especially since she now lived in Metropolis with Tommy. But the thought of using Thea’s nickname for Roy’s hero name was amusing. “Arsenal, as a name, indicates that you are ready for anything. By the time I am done training you, Roy, you _will_ be ready for anything.”

“Okay, sounds good,” Roy said. “What’s first?”

“What’s first is going to be difficult for you,” Oliver said. “It was difficult for me to learn it because I learned it last, after all of my other training. You need to learn how to harness and channel your passions, and the first step towards that is meditation.”

“Meditation?” Roy asked incredulously.

“Meditation,” Oliver repeated firmly. “Like I said, I know it’s not as exciting as you probably hoped, but I have to believe that this will help you in the long run, to learn these exercises before you get too far into learning how to fight. Your passion is your strength, Roy, but it can also be a weakness, a weakness that our enemies _will_ exploit.” He smiled crookedly. “But don’t worry. I have some physical training to start you off with, too, the same stuff I started off with.” Roy nodded to show he understood, and Oliver began guiding Roy through his first meditation.

**_*DC*_ **

Laurel and Sara stepped into Queen Consolidated and were met almost instantly by Ned Foster. “Miss Lance, I received word from Jean Loring that you’re our new owner,” Ned said. “I have to say, I’m surprised.”

“I am as surprised as you are, but Oliver trusted me to do right by his family’s company and I will do my best to do that,” Laurel said. “He suggested I make you C.E.O. Are you willing to accept the position?”

“With no one in the Queen family left to do so, I’ve no real choice,” Ned said.

“Laurel?” a man’s voice asked. The three turned to find Barry Allen standing there. “What are you doing here?”

“Oliver transferred his shares and custodianship of the Queen fortune to me before he was officially arrested,” Laurel replied. “I’m here to work with Ned on transitioning Queen Consolidated through this. Ned will be the new C.E.O., Barry.”

“Who are you?” Sara asked Barry.

“Oh, uh, I’m Barry Allen,” Barry said. “Oliver recruited me for Applied Sciences a few weeks back in Central City, back when he was still the head of it. And you?”

“Sara Lance, Laurel’s kid sister and unofficial bodyguard in case anyone tries to kill her like they tried to kill Oliver last night,” Sara said.

Barry’s eyes bugged out and Ned Foster straightened up. “What is this?” Ned asked suspiciously.

“Not here,” Laurel said. “It might get out eventually, but it won’t be from me. Let’s go to your office, Mr. Foster. We should have enough privacy there.” Ned nodded shortly, and the four made their way to the administrative floor of Queen Consolidated, where they entered Ned’s current office. Once the door was closed, both Ned and Barry looked at the Lance sisters expectantly. “Last night, our dad got a call that Oliver escaped custody. But he found it very odd that Oliver somehow managed to kneecap the driver and the driver’s guard _outside_ of the transport.”

“The police tried to kill him?” Barry gasped.

“Someone definitely didn’t want him to make it to Slabside,” Sara said with a nod. “Someone with a lot of pull in the department.”

“This is very disturbing to hear,” Ned said. “Miss Lance, please keep me updated on this. I need to know these things in case they get out so Queen Consolidated can be ahead of the curve. As our new owner, you need to keep us informed.”

“I will,” Laurel promised. “Is there anything else we need to go over?”

“Yes, actually,” Ned said. “Oliver had asked me about beginning the renovations of the old steel mill. Do you want us to continue doing that?”

“Anything Ollie set into motion, keep doing,” Laurel said firmly. “I’m not here to run roughshod over what he wanted for Starling City. He had a vision for this city, one I want to see, too. The city needs those jobs, both for the factory and for the clean energy project with Wayne Enterprises.”

“I’m actually surprised they haven’t pulled out with this news,” Ned admitted. “But it may be because it’s still so fresh. I wouldn’t be surprised if we got the call before the end of the day that that’s what’s happening.”

“Until it happens, operate under the assumption it will keep happening,” Laurel said firmly. “Ollie might be on the run, but that future he wanted to see for our city is a future I want to see, too.”

Ned nodded, then turned to Barry. “Now that your curiosity has been sated, Mr. Allen, you should report to Applied Sciences. Please keep what you’ve heard here quiet.”

“I will, Mr. Foster,” Barry said and skittered out of the office. Sara looked amused at how biddable Barry seemed.

“Anything else that needs attention?” Laurel asked Ned, who shook his head. “Let’s keep each other updated. Will daily calls suffice?”

“They will, Miss Lance,” Ned replied. “And thank you.”

“Thank Ollie,” Laurel said. “He knew this was a possibility and prepared for it so Queen Consolidated wouldn’t face another fall in stock.”

**_*DC*_ **

Roy had left the Quiver, bruised from the A.S.I.S. training that Oliver had put him through with a pair of bamboo sticks but promising to be back tomorrow at the appointed time. Now, Oliver and Henry were waiting for the arrival of Lyla Michaels and the new A.R.G.U.S. asset. Oliver could only assume the new asset was some poor bastard who had put himself on Waller’s radar somehow. He knew the feeling, and he sympathized with whoever had ended up in this situation. When the doors to the elevator opened, though, and Oliver’s eyes landed on the new asset, his eyebrows popped up. “Lawton?” he asked.

“Queen,” Floyd Lawton snarled. “I owe you for tying me up like a pretty package for A.R.G.U.S.”

Oliver looked to Lyla. “I’m surprised he’s not still in the Pit,” he said.

“Until Task Force X is approved, Mr. Lawton is serving in the same capacity as you did in Hong Kong and on Lian Yu, going into hotspots and dealing with issues with his special skillset,” Lyla said. “He is also learning how to deal with other A.R.G.U.S. assets, and this is a test of sorts, seeing how he handles being in the same room as the man responsible for his capture.”

Oliver looked at Lawton. “Somehow, the glare tells me he’s not going to pass with flying colors,” Oliver said dryly. Lawton glowered but said nothing. Oliver turned to Lyla. “The elevator can be keyed to biometric signatures so only authorized personnel can enter from there. We left it open since we don’t have yours or Lawton’s biometrics on our database.” Lyla nodded shortly. “Please, feel free to tour the place and provide your assessment.”

Lyla turned to Lawton. “This is why you’re here. Remember, give a false report and it’s back in solitary for a while.” Lawton said nothing, just set off. Lyla turned back to Oliver, who had an eyebrow raised. “While Task Force X has yet to be approved, Director Waller has proved persuasive in keeping Lawton occupied. He knows the price of his defiance. Much like you did, if the files I have on the Hong Kong mission are any indication.” Lyla straightened up. “There’s something I’d like to ask you about, Mr. Queen. About the last time we met.”

“We can talk in private on the range,” Oliver said, and led Lyla there. Once there, he gestured for her to begin.

“You seemed very… upset with me, when we last met,” Lyla said. “I’d like to know why. We’ve never met.”

“No, not really,” Oliver said. “But Novu gave me a glimpse of the future, Agent Michaels, and in that future, you did _nothing_ to prepare for the Crisis despite knowing about it all of this time. Then I find that _Waller_ knows about the Crisis and has been preparing, and I wonder exactly why the hell _you_ were entrusted with this knowledge but did nothing. It’s like you _want_ the universe to be destroyed. But in the end, you’re not to blame. You’re not a leader, Agent Michaels. You’re a follower, a lapdog. Best not to get ideas above your station.” With that, Oliver turned on his heel and left a stiff Lyla behind. That had felt good.

In the end, Lawton found two points of weakness; the garage entrance needed more security in his opinion, and they needed a front for the office space to make sure no one set up shop right on top of the Quiver who wasn’t in the know. Oliver had said he had something in mind for the latter and agreed to work on the former. With only two points of concern, both of which were being addressed, Lyla had no reason to deny them access to A.R.G.U.S. feeds.

Oliver watched as Lyla and Lawton got back into the elevator and it closed behind them. “Good thing John wasn’t still with us,” Oliver told Henry, who raised an eyebrow. “That was the man who shot his brother. He wouldn’t have been able to handle Lawton walking around free. But it appears Deadshot has a purpose to serve.” Oliver shook his head, clearing his thoughts and refocusing. “Henry, now that we’ve got access to the A.R.G.U.S. feeds, I want you to pull up everything on Councilwoman Emily Pollard. It’s time to begin whittling away at Tempest.”

“Got it, boss,” Henry said, and began working on it.

Oliver would fully admit that this had everything to do with how much of an obstructionist _bitch_ Pollard had been in the future. He well-remembered how she had let that bastard Midas off without even a slap on the wrist because Oliver had used ‘the wrong methods’ to get the confession. He didn’t know why he had once said he would have worked with the S.C.P.D. in the early days if given the chance. Being back here _in_ the early days had reminded him of just _why_ he had done this as a vigilante. There were places that he could go the police couldn’t, things that he would do the police wouldn’t. It just so happened that Pollard and Kullens were the low-hanging fruit of Tempest, and they would be the first to go. Pollard became the first choice because he had had far more experience with her brand of corruption. **_*2*_**

Oliver moved to look at the mannequin with his uniform. He had just replaced the original hood with a nano-fiber/Kevlar weave hood on the RQ-1141, which was now in police custody. He had also ordered a new mask for himself for a back-up, this one a domino mask, which now rested on the mannequin in front of him. His original mask, of course, was in police custody along with everything else from the Bunker. Oliver was in a quandary. In the future, he had stuck with the hood even after he was known to be the Green Arrow out of a sense of familiarity, and because he naturally wanted to stick to the shadows. But that hadn’t been his goal in the new timeline. His goal now was to _inspire_ others to rise up and stand with him, to fight for their cities, to be symbols of hope to the world and, eventually, the champions who would stand against the Anti-Monitor and the destruction he threatened. But could he do that while still hiding under the hood? Or was it time to give it up and operate openly?

**_*DC*_ **

Thea Dearden Queen (or was it Thea Merlyn?) had barricaded herself in her bedroom as soon as she heard the front door of the corporate apartment open and heard Tommy saying he was back. She didn’t want to speak to him or even _see_ him. Ollie was on the run because of Tommy, and no number of apologies was going to erase that fact. Thea was holding the Hozen her brother had given her the day after he returned home in her hand, looking at it and remembering the words Oliver had spoken that day. “ _It’s a hozen. In Buddhism it symbolizes reconnecting. I kept it in the hopes that one day it would reconnect me with you._ ” Everything that had been happening lately had made her completely forget about what her brother had told her that day, and now, thanks to her _other_ brother, there was no chance of reconnecting with Ollie unless it was when he was finally caught and sent to prison.

Because despite what Tommy had said at the press conference, Thea knew that that was what would happen, because Oliver had shone a spotlight on the ugliness and corruption in Starling City, a spotlight that had people scurrying away from it to hide deeper in the shadows and feed off of the corruption. Memories of Oliver telling her _why_ it had to be him who did this, _why_ he was fighting so hard for the city, came back as well. Thea was beginning to realize just how much of a selfish bitch she had been being, and now, she couldn’t even tell Oliver how sorry she was, because _Tommy_ had sent him on the run!

A soft knock on the door was followed by Tommy poking his head in. “Thea?” he said tentatively.

“Go away!” Thea snarled.

“Thea, I know you’re angry about what I did,” Tommy said, staying by the door but opening it so he could face Thea fully. “Believe me, I tried _everything_ to avoid having to do it that way. I begged him, Thea. I begged him to get help, to go to Sherwood Acres. But he refused at every turn to accept he needed help. I didn’t have a choice. If he kept going, he was going to get killed.”

“And now he’ll just go to prison, assuming the cops don’t kill him!” Thea snapped, turning, grabbing the bedside lamp, and throwing it at Tommy in a fit of temper. “Get out!”

Tommy flinched as the lamp broke beside him. “Thea, I promise you, I’ve got people looking for Oliver, too,” he said. “And I won’t stop until he gets the help he needs, in a psychiatric facility, not a prison. I swear, Thea. I’m not gonna let anything happen to him.”

“How can you?” Thea asked bitterly. “We live in Metropolis now.”

“That’s why I came to see you,” Tommy said. “I talked with Dad, and we’re moving operations for Special Projects to Starling. He thinks we should be together for all of this, as a family. I know Ollie thinks he’s a bad guy, Thea, but I swear… he may be distant, but he’s our father. And he wants what’s best for Oliver. He’s promised to have our lawyers handle everything to get Oliver into Sherwood Acres instead of Slabside.” **_*3*_**

“Really?” Thea asked, her voice cracking.

“Really, Speedy,” Tommy said, stepping closer and taking the trembling girl into his arms. “We’re going back to Starling.”

“Thank you,” she whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter.
> 
> Chapter Notes:
> 
> *1* So, up until I joined the Lauriver discord recently, I had never really thought about Oliver’s choice of bow as a thing to be considered. But after reading some of the others’ stories and having someone ask me outright what bow my Oliver favors, it got me thinking. I had initially thought ‘recurve’, since that’s what his original bow was and was what he was using in this fic, but when I really thought about it, Oliver would be thinking tactically about the enemies he was going to face and plan accordingly. So, from now on, Oliver will be using a compound bow in this story instead of the mix of recurve and compound bows he had in the show (someone told me he had like seven or eight different bows over the course of the series).
> 
> *2* Ah, finally getting a chance to pay off the interrogation of Frank Chen back in “Rendition” as it’s now titled. I debated for a bit as to who should be first and decided Oliver would go after the ‘low-hanging fruit’ of the council councilors first. After that, it was a question of Kullens and Pollard, and in the end, Pollard would’ve been at the forefront of Oliver’s mind after all of the shit she put the vigilantes through in the future.
> 
> *3* Ah, poor Tommy… so trusting, and that may yet be his downfall. And in the meantime, Thea is being brought into Malcolm’s orbit. Dear, oh, dear, what *could* this mean for the Merlyn siblings? Will one of them fall? Will both? Or will something else altogether happen?


	50. The Green Arrow Returns

The Green Arrow raced across the rooftops of the Glades, on patrol for the first time since his arrest and subsequent escape. After some internal debate, he had chosen to end the time of the hood. It would have a place of honor still, but the mysterious hooded savior was no longer inspiring now that he had been exposed as Green Arrow. So, with his head feeling remarkably naked (Henry had suggested if he wanted something he should have a cap with a feather in it to finish off the Robin Hood look and received a lethal glare in return), and the emerald green domino mask in place, Green Arrow made his way across the rooftops. He hadn’t come across anyone in need of aid yet, but Henry was keeping an ear out on the police scanner while he continued his deep dive into Emily Pollard. Green Arrow had suggested he focus on Pollard’s dealings with the likes of James Midas.

Green Arrow’s ears perked up as he heard the sound of a cry for help, but his stomach clenched as he realized that it was a _child_ who was calling for help. His mind went to his own son, and he veered off in the direction of the child’s cry, heart pumping and anxiety spiking. No child should be in danger, not in _his city_. Green Arrow found himself overlooking a side street. A group of men were circled around a young family: husband, wife, two small children who couldn’t have been much older than William was right now. Green Arrow snarled in fury and fired a zipline arrow, sliding down on it and landing in the center of the encircled thugs, in front of the frightened family. He stood slowly, meeting the gazes of the thugs in front of him. “No one threatens a child in _my_ city,” he said in a velvety tone that belied the danger the thugs were in. Like the hood, the voice modulator was a relic of a different age. He was known now, and his own voice would be enough.

“Well, well, looks like Robin Hood came out to play,” the thug directly in front of him cackled. “This is just too good. Let’s collect that bounty on him, boys!” Green Arrow surged forward, delivering a throat strike with his compound bow and paralyzing the leader’s voice box before delivering a left cross and knocking him down. Then he turned, fired a bolo arrow at two thugs standing close together and got a two-for-one special. He turned and blocked the overhead strike from a bat-wielding thug and then delivered a forward kick into the man’s solar plexus, wrestled the bat from his suddenly lax grip, and delivered his own strike to the man’s head. The gang members surged forward now, and Green Arrow called upon his League training to bring them down with debilitating strikes before tying them up with bolo arrows. By the time he was done, all ten men were on the ground, moaning and tied up, and the huddled family was no longer looking frightened but thankful.

“Thank you, Mr. Queen,” the mother wept, hugging her children to her. “Thank you.”

“If you hadn’t of come…” the father said shakily. “I was gonna try and fight them, but there were so many…”

“I understand,” Green Arrow said. “You’re safe. Now, get yourselves home.” Green Arrow activated his comms. “Tell the S.C.P.D. I left them a little package around 230 Wells Street,” he told Oversight.

“ **Will do, boss,** ” said the modulated voice of his tech expert. Since their communications were no longer as secure as they had been in their new location, they had engaged in new security protocols.

Green Arrow fired a grappling arrow and returned to the rooftops to resume his patrol. As he raced across the rooftops, he thought about the way that mother had thanked him while clutching her children. He didn’t really remember anyone thanking him like that after he had been exposed as Green Arrow. There had been stares, whispers, people taking his picture with their cell phones during a takedown like with Max Fuller, but never anyone _thanking_ him. It was… an odd thing, being _thanked_ for his actions personally instead of having talking heads debate whether or not he counted as a hero in comparison to The Flash.

**_*DC*_ **

Oliver had stopped three muggings, a couple of rape attempts, and at least one snatching attempt by human traffickers outside of Max Fuller’s club. All in all, it had been a successful night for Green Arrow. He returned to the Quiver, peeling his mask off his face and returning it to the mannequin. “How’s that search on Pollard progressing?” he asked.

“Real good, boss,” Henry replied. “Your suggestion gave me some interesting threads to pull on. Seems Pollard has accepted campaign contributions from Midas and a couple of other millionaires that might just fit your criteria for justice. Justin Claybourne, a med tech mogul whose company has developed a treatment for tuberculosis. There was a recent ‘outbreak’ in Lamb Valley of the same disease, and Claybourne reaped the benefits after raising the price on his treatment. A lot of people couldn’t afford it though, boss. Lot of people died.” Henry turned to look at Oliver, his glare fierce. “Some of them were _kids_.”

“Claybourne will get his,” Oliver said softly. “Who was the other person?”

“Some guy named Thomas Wilkins,” Henry replied. “He’s new money, recently moved to Starling. He’s too clean, boss. I don’t think Wilkins is his name.”

“Dig into him, find out who he really is,” Oliver said, remembering Wilkins from the dinner party his mother had thrown. “But Pollard is the priority. I’ll take down some Listers in between taking out the Tempest council, and trust me, Claybourne is on the top of that list now.” _The last thing I’m going to let him do is cause another outbreak because I decided to take him out later than I did last time,_ Oliver thought viciously. He considered what he would do with Claybourne. Would he kill him, as he did last time? Or would he simply expose his corruption and his profiting from the suffering of others? Would Simon/Adrian come after him regardless of what he did? Oliver had to admit it was probably likely either outcome would still see Simon/Adrian come after him. The only question was whether Talia would train him so long as Oliver kept from killing Ra’s, something he was intent on doing this time around since he now knew the League had a part to play in keeping the Anti-Monitor locked away. **_*1*_**

**_*DC*_ **

Laurel and Sara Lance were at a diner for breakfast when they heard the news: Green Arrow had been patrolling the city last night and stopped several crimes in progress. This had everyone in the diner talking excitedly, including the Lance sisters. “So, he’s not only still free, but he’s back at it,” Sara said, giving her older sister a relieved smile. “I told you he would figure out what to do.”

“I’m glad you were right, Sara,” Laurel said. “I don’t like to say it, but a part of me wondered if he would do it. I should’ve realized he was prepared for all of this. He probably had a new base set up weeks ago to be used just in case this happened.” Her phone rang. “Just a minute,” she said apologetically to her sister, and reached into her purse. She pulled out her phone, frowning when she saw it wasn’t ringing. She dug into her purse and found a second phone inside, a flip phone to be precise. She pulled it out and opened it. “Hello?” she said, confused.

“It’s good to hear your voice,” Oliver said softly.

Laurel swallowed the lump that formed in her throat. “It’s good to hear yours,” she whispered. “Ollie, you know they’re watching me, right?”

“I know,” Oliver said. “Which is why I’m nowhere near you. But I can see you through the diner’s cameras. Your booth is hidden from view, so they won’t know that you have a second phone. It’s encrypted, just like its twin, which I’m using. I wanted us to be able to keep in contact, even if we can’t be in the same room.”

“That’s sweet, but you shouldn’t have taken the risk,” Laurel said.

“I needed to,” Oliver said. “You keep me grounded, Laurel. I need you in my life, even if we can’t be in each other’s orbits right now. And this gives you a way to contact me on any cases you come across at C.N.R.I. that need my attention.” Laurel heard another man’s voice and Oliver chuckled. “Henry says hello.”

“Tell him I said hi back,” Laurel said dryly, which earned another chuckle from Oliver. “Ollie, I heard you went out again last night. You’ve had a new base for weeks, haven’t you?”

“Yep,” Oliver said. “I didn’t need to use it because we had the Bunker, but it was ready in case we ever needed it. I’m calling it the Quiver.”

“A bit on the nose, don’t you think?” Laurel asked teasingly. Sara watched her with a sad smile, knowing that this was doing her sister a world of good, to be able to talk to her fugitive boyfriend.

“I blame Barry Allen,” Oliver said.

“Barry?” Laurel asked. “What does he have to do with you coming up with cute nicknames for everything and everyone?” Sara snickered at this, and Laurel gave her sister a smile.

“Um, you remember that whole ‘Novu showed me the future’ thing?” Oliver asked.

“Yes,” Laurel said slowly.

“Barry was kind of one of my best friends and he got a joy out of naming things,” Oliver said. “It’s why I recruited him. I-I wanted my friend back, even if it’s not the same. I guess the naming thing is kind of the same reason. It’s like he’s still here.” **_*2*_**

“Oh, Ollie,” Laurel said softly. Apparently, whatever Novu had done to show Oliver the future had had a lot more detail than she imagined. She remembered Oliver saying he had also seen her death thanks to Novu and cursed the being that had sent Oliver to kill Harrison Wells/Eobard Thawne for showing Oliver that. No wonder he was so damned protective of her if he had seen her death in detail. Every time she had been in danger had probably made those memories worse. And it explained why he woke up screaming her name sometimes; he remembered those details in his nightmares. “It’s alright to want that. And I think it’s sweet that you do things like that to remember your friends.”

“Anyways, I just wanted to make sure you got your phone,” Oliver said. “I had a friend place it in your purse last night when you went to that movie with Sara.”

“How did you- Henry,” she realized.

“Yup. But it wasn’t him. I’ve got an, well, I guess you would call him my apprentice,” Oliver said. “I’m training him to be my partner. We’re calling him Arsenal.”

“Arsenal? I don’t think it’s Barry,” Laurel said, lips twitching into a grin. “I think you’re really just a big dork inside.” Sara covered her mouth to hide her laugh, but Laurel was sure Oliver could hear her sister’s laughter. A few heads looked over, but then everyone turned back to their conversations about the fact that Green Arrow was still out there, fighting for them. “You should hear the people here, Ollie,” Laurel said. “You’ve given them so much hope…”

“I’m glad,” Oliver said. “Look, I’ve made some changes. I’m not using the hood or modulator anymore. Now that the genie’s out of the bottle, they don’t help inspire the way they did.”

“That sounds right,” Laurel said softly. She checked her watch. “I’m sorry, I have to go. It’s almost time for me and Sara to head to C.N.R.I.”

“Sara?” Oliver asked, confused.

“She and Dad are worried whoever tried to have you killed during transport will target me and she’s appointed herself my bodyguard,” Laurel said, giving her sister an annoyed look.

“Good,” Oliver said, to Laurel’s further annoyance. The scowl she gave at this had Sara snickering again. “I know you don’t want to be treated like you’re a china doll, Laurel, and I know you’re not. But please, for my peace of mind, let Sara keep you safe.”

“I’m letting her,” Laurel said. Sara mouthed ‘letting me?’, which Laurel ignored. “Besides, it gives her time to teach me these meditation techniques she insists I learn. She told me it would help me with memory recall, as well, so I could prep my cases better. Once she feels better, she’ll start training me. In the meantime, I’m still going to Ted’s.”

“Good,” Oliver praised. “Well, if you need to go, I’ll let you be. But give the phone to Sara. I love you, Laurel.”

“Love you, too,” she said softly, before handing the phone to a surprised Sara, who took it. She watched as Sara frowned at whatever was being said, then hung up without speaking. “What was that about?”

“It’s nothing you need to worry about, Laurel,” Sara said. “Just more of Ollie apologizing for getting me shot. He says he’s got a grand plan to make it up to me.” Laurel rolled her eyes; yes, that sounded like her boyfriend, all right. She took the phone back and returned it to her purse along with her normal phone. 

**_*DC*_ **

Sara Lance entered the empty office space, looking around curiously. Her sharp eyes noted the camera tucked away in a corner, practically invisible, and smirked before waving at it. She turned as a wall slid away to reveal an empty elevator. “What is with you and hidden underground bases, Ollie?” she asked as she stepped into the elevator. The doors closed behind her and the elevator descended. Less than a minute later, the doors behind her opened, and she turned to find Oliver standing there waiting for her.

“Welcome to the Quiver, Sara,” Oliver said.

“Ah, so that’s why Laurel said it was on the nose,” Sara said. “She wouldn’t tell me even though I begged her to. So, why am I here, Ollie?”

“As you’ve seen, the space above us is empty, and while a shell corporation I created, Lian Yu Holdings, currently holds the property title and it can’t be bought, it sitting empty is going to draw suspicions, especially with my new student coming here every day,” Oliver said. “He’s mixing it up and coming through the garage every other day, but eventually people will notice a pattern. I’ve got an idea of what to do with the space, and I think it’d help you, as well.”

“Help me?” Sara echoed.

“I know that you struggle with what you did in the League, Sara,” Oliver said, putting a hand on her shoulder. “I know you struggle with the death you dealt.” Sara nodded slowly. “I have two ideas, both of which would help you reconnect with your humanity. The first idea is to set up a shop selling surveillance. I figured with your training, you could give people the rundown on what really works and what is going to be spotted.”

“Eh, maybe, but I’ll wait until I hear the second idea,” Sara said.

“The second idea… is a flower shop,” Oliver finally said. “It would surround you with life after dealing death for so long. I figured it might be helpful.”

Sara was silence as she considered what Oliver had said. Finally, she said, “A surveillance shop would keep me in the mindset of the League, and I’d be wondering why they were buying it. The flower shop is something that doesn’t require any special skill, and maybe being surrounded by life and beauty would help me.”

“Alright,” Oliver said. “But you get to pick the name.”

“I don’t do cute nicknames, that’s your specialty,” Sara immediately sassed. Oliver rolled his eyes.

“Let’s stick with something simple,” Oliver said. “Lance Floral?” Sara gave a head bob in response. “Okay, that’s dealt with. I’ll make the arrangements, and you’ll be open for business by next week.”

“Thanks, Ollie,” Sara said. “I’m sure by that time, any threat to Laurel will be gone, and I’ll need something to do.”

“Good,” Oliver said. “In the meantime, I’ve got something else for you.” He snatched a leather pouch from a nearby table. “Do you remember the herbs that Slade and I gave you when you got sick on the island?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Sara said.

“Well, they’re really good at healing even from gunshots,” Oliver said, handing the pouch over to Sara. “Instructions on how best to use them are inside,” Oliver said. “That should speed up your recovery.”

“Thanks, Ollie,” Sara said gratefully. She hadn’t been looking forward to taking it easy and wincing with every movement for the next few weeks. But she remembered how fast-acting these herbs were. “I hope you won’t need them.”

“If I do, I’ll call you,” Oliver said.

**_*DC*_ **

Green Arrow smiled grimly as he stared down at the bank of windows that represented Emily Pollard’s apartment. The councilwoman herself was just barely visible, discussing something with someone he couldn’t quite make out, but according to Oversight, it was James Midas. Both had bodyguards with them: six in total, two for Pollard and four for Midas. Green Arrow mused over the fact that the businessman warranted more security than the councilwoman before firing a zipline arrow. The descent would be steeper than usual, meaning he would crash through the window at higher speeds. He would need to be ready to fire as soon as he was in a position to. He used his new bow to zipline down and crashed through the window, landing in a crouch, and firing off a magnetic arrow to begin his attack. The weapons of the bodyguards were pulled from their grasp and an explosive arrow took care of that threat permanently. Green Arrow didn’t slow his attack, firing off bolo arrows at a pair of bodyguards before they could react. Then the other four were on him.

He delivered a knife-hand strike to one man’s throat before delivering a series of punches to his ribs, followed by a bow-cut. The man fell back, wheezing and completely out of it. Green Arrow didn’t pause in his assault, turning and firing a sleeping gas arrow at point blank range, which hooked itself into the man’s shirt and released. The man stumbled and fell, unconscious. Green Arrow blocked the right cross that came his way before delivering a frontal kick to the man’s midsection, then delivering a crippling blow to his knee, which dislocated with a _pop_. The man fell to the ground with a scream as Green Arrow fired off another bolo arrow. Green Arrow turned, plucking a bolt from the flechette on his arm, and jabbing it into the neck of the final man, the taser activating a moment later. Green Arrow made a note that he should consider having miniature crossbows or something to fire those from now on and then turned and fired a bolo arrow as James Midas tried to make a run for it. Another bolo arrow caught Emily Pollard in the chair she had been sitting in, tying her in place. “Emily Pollard, you have _failed_ this city,” Green Arrow said.

“I am a city _councilwoman,_ Mr. Queen,” Pollard stated frostily and not a little self-righteously. “I _run_ the city. So please, enlighten me, how have I failed it?”

“By allowing Midas to test his specialized bullets by providing them to street gangs in the Glades,” Green Arrow said softly. “By allowing Justin Claybourne to perform a small test of his weaponized tuberculosis on patients at the Merlyn clinic. But mostly, by working with Tempest in an Undertaking with one horrible purpose: to destroy the Glades and everyone in it.”

“Quite the resume of terror you’ve applied to me, Mr. Queen,” Pollard said with a smirk, as though she were not tied up at all but had all of the power in the conversation. “But you have no proof.”

“Don’t I?” Green Arrow asked. “Consider that statement carefully, Councilwoman. How many people have I taken down with evidence no one knew existed? How many of them do you think have said the very same thing you just did? The proof exists, Pollard, and I have it. You have a choice. You can admit to what you’ve done, and turn state’s evidence for the F.B.I. against Tempest, or you can be exposed and renditioned to a deep dark hole as a domestic terrorist. You have forty-eight hours to decide.” Green Arrow turned and walked to the window, firing another zipline arrow down to a lower roof, and descending rapidly. Pollard watched him, confused. He normally gave his targets only twenty-four hours to comply with his demands. What was so special about tomorrow that he would give her an extra twenty-four hours to do what he demanded? **_*3*_**

**_*DC*_ **

Quentin Lance’s stomach clenched as he heard the report that came in over his radio. Queen had just attacked Emily Pollard and one of her biggest supporters in her apartment. She was demanding 24/7 police protection, as Queen had given her forty-eight hours to comply with his demands, which was apparently to confess to crimes against the people of Starling City. Quentin grimaced, because he knew that if this was true, if Queen had evidence that Pollard had done anything to the people of Starling, that it would galvanize his support among the people. Already, there were protestors outside of 1PP every day since Queen’s arrest with homemade signs of “Pardon Oliver Queen”, “I Stand With Green Arrow”, and “Resign, Sheriff Nudocerdo”. That last one had the Commissioner in a tizzy as it reminded him that he was being cast in the role of the Sheriff of Nottingham in Queen’s Robin Hood story.

Worse, Quentin couldn’t even try to talk to his daughters about this, because he knew, he just _knew_ they both supported Queen. Laurel was a given but Sara, Sara was different. He remembered what that Detective Sawyer had told him when she called to let him know the Bratva had attacked his daughters and abducted Laurel. _Sara_ had put two Bratva members into the hospital before being shot, and Quentin had asked Sawyer to fax a list of their injuries. His little girl had put those Russians through the ringer, and Quentin had a horrible feeling that his youngest had been through situations similar to Queen, and if that was true, then she might join him in his madness. Which was why he needed to find Queen and arrest him before anyone else did. He didn’t want his daughters caught in the crossfire, and so long as Queen remained at large, that threat existed.

**_*DC*_ **

Malcolm Merlyn, ensconced in his home office, threw the glass of brandy into the fire flickering in the hearth. Oliver was back in play, and apparently, he was done going after outliers. He was now directly targeting members of Tempest. But why now? Why hadn’t he been doing this since the beginning? The only thing that made sense was that Oliver _hadn’t_ known who the members of Tempest were. Malcolm’s mind went to the fact that Frank Chen’s wife had reported him missing after he came to Starling City for Moira’s funeral which Malcolm knew he hadn’t attended because he had been there himself. Oliver. It had to be. He must have had his government contacts snatch up Frank and interrogate him, and Frank must have held out for quite a while, but he had given in now, and Oliver knew who the members of Tempest were. That meant that everything Malcolm was working towards was now in danger. He couldn’t control crime in this city without the help of the other local members of Tempest. Frank hadn’t been all that important since his business interests were mostly in China, but Pollard, Kullens, Ballard, Hollinger, Cable… they were all necessary to keep things going, especially with Moira gone.

Malcolm was drawn out of his thoughts by a knock on the door. He turned to face it in time to see his son and daughter open the door and step into the room. Instantly, a congenial smile came to his face. Here was something he could do to strike at Oliver in a personal way; he would twist Thea until she was loyal to him, and Oliver would be left heartbroken at having lost his sister to Malcolm. Perhaps he would even use Thea to draw Samantha and William into a trap when the time eventually came to draw Oliver into a conflict. “Tommy, Thea, welcome home,” Malcolm said warmly. **_*4*_**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter.
> 
> Chapter Notes:
> 
> *1* I personally think that it wouldn’t have mattered if Oliver had just exposed Claybourne. Simon/Adrian would’ve still had a psychotic break and fixated on avenging his father against the one who brought him down.
> 
> *2* I wanted to give Oliver a reason for him giving people and things ‘cute nicknames’ at times, and this seemed a natural evolution from his ‘blame Barry and Kara’ shtick.
> 
> *3* Okay, writing Pollard and Oliver was kind of fun. Mainly because Oliver got to confront her over the fact that she’s a corrupt piece of work, something he wasn’t allowed to do in canon thanks to whatever reasons Guggenheim concocted during his self-pleasuring sessions.
> 
> *4* Ah, things are continuing to unravel for Malcolm, and he’s unaware Oliver’s known the members of Tempest for weeks, believing Frank has only recently cracked. Oh, if he only knew…


	51. Thanksgiving

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I know I typically don’t post more than one chapter a day, but this chapter is pretty sedate and I know people were wondering what is so special about the next day that Oliver would give Pollard an extra 24 hours. The title probably gives it away, but I hope everyone enjoys it.

Dinah Laurel Lance was shocked when the news came over the television in her and Sara’s living room. “To repeat for those just now tuning in, Oliver Queen, the Green Arrow, attacked Councilwoman Emily Pollard in her high-rise apartment last night,” Susan Williams said, drawing Laurel and Sara’s eyes and ears. “Councilwoman Pollard and her guest for the evening, Midas Medical C.E.O. James Midas, were unharmed in the attack, and their bodyguards will recover from the attack without incident. But the purpose of the attack is still unknown. Councilwoman Pollard’s office and James Midas’s public relations officer have both issued statements of no comment. Councilwoman Pollard is a champion of big business and has supported numerous laws which ease the restrictions businesses operate under in Starling City. Is there something more to this championing that the Green Arrow discovered? Or has he simply branched out into other forms of corruption as he sees it? Or, as some have asked, has Oliver Queen simply cracked under the pressure?” The channel went to the commercial break, and Laurel shut the television off, looking troubled.

“This isn’t going to help his case,” Laurel said. “Attacking a city councilwoman is going to have major repercussions and might even see his support base wither away.”

“I would say trust Ollie, but I gotta admit, I don’t see why he did this one,” Sara admitted. “This is more like the kind of stuff the League would have done. This was targeted. But what is it about Pollard he could be targeting? Just the big business stuff? That’s not really against the law, but Ollie’s takedowns have mostly been white collar criminals like the people Pollard champions. Maybe he’s just taking on corruption in a different form, like Williams said?”

“Maybe,” Laurel said. “I just… I’ve looked over the List, Sara. Pollard’s name isn’t on it, and Oliver’s going to be focusing on the List to keep working on drawing Merlyn out. Or, at least, that’s what I _thought_ he would be doing.”

“I hope he knows what he’s doing, then,” Sara said. She sighed sadly. “I figure today is gonna be hard enough on Ollie. Thanksgiving is a time for family, and his are either dead or they hate him, and he’s stuck who-knows-where with just Henry Fyff for company.” **_*1*_**

**_*DC*_ **

Oliver accepted the warm container from Henry and opened it as he sat down at the table. Inside was a Denny’s Thanksgiving meal: turkey, mashed potatoes, stuffing, and yams. Henry had a similar one, having gone out and fetched it for the two of them. “Happy Thanksgiving, Henry,” he said.

“Happy Thanksgiving, boss,” Henry said.

“Henry, we’re living together,” Oliver said. “I think we can drop the formality now.”

“Alright… Oliver,” Henry said slowly, as if testing the name out. “So, what are you thankful for?” Oliver looked at him blankly, and Henry hurried to explain. “It’s a tradition in some families to say what you’re thankful for on Thanksgiving. I figured we might as well do it since we’re both away from the people we love.”

Oliver was silent, staring at Henry. “I didn’t realize you had a family, Henry,” he said quietly.

“I had a wife and daughter,” Henry said. “But I couldn’t help who I am, and after I got on a watch-list, I knew I would drag them down with me. I still send alimony through an off-shore account. At least I can provide for my little girl.”

Oliver nodded slowly. He sighed. “I have a son,” he said, and Henry started. “He’s six years old, and he’s brilliant. He and his mother live in Central City. Samantha, his mother, doesn’t know that I know about him. I had a special program to look in on him back at the Bunker. I used it during the mob war to look in on him, remind myself what I’m doing this for, so that he can live in a world that’s safe for boys like him to spread their wings.”

“That got something to do with your comment about seeing the future to Miss Lance?” Henry asked. Oliver looked up, surprised. “You were standing like five feet from me and you weren’t talking in low tones,” Henry pointed out.

“Yeah,” Oliver said. “Since you’re working with me, I guess it’s time you know why I’ve done all of this, why I’m fighting as openly as I am. There’s a Crisis coming, Henry. A Crisis that will destroy the universe if we don’t stop it. We have twelve years to prepare based on the knowledge I have at the moment. But this world needs _heroes_ to stand against this Crisis. That’s why I’m doing what I’m doing. The world needs heroes, and someone needs to _inspire_ them to stand up and fight for the right thing. Waller’s preparing for the Crisis as well; that’s why she’s supporting me, so she can get approval for Task Force X and have a shadow team ready to deploy when the Crisis comes.”

Henry swallowed. His thoughts turned to his little girl, who was just turning ten. He thought of her being wiped out by this Crisis Oliver spoke of. He knew he wasn’t lying; Henry had always been able to tell when someone was lying to him. Nor did Oliver have that crazed gleam people had when they were on a trip down crazy lane. No, the look in his eyes, if it were anything, was _haunted_ , and a weight seemed to settle on Oliver’s shoulders as he spoke of what was coming. “Then I’m with you one hundred percent, Oliver,” Henry said. “Through this and every other thing you do. At least as long as Waller lets me. Because I won’t see my little girl wiped out. Not if I can help the man whose going to stop it.”

“Thank you, Henry,” Oliver said, touched. “You’re the first person outside of Waller that I’ve told about the Crisis, and the first person I’ve told who didn’t already know. I’m glad you’re with me. And don’t worry about Waller. I’m going to see if I can’t free you up. You’ll be more useful if you can move about freely.”

“Thank you,” Henry said gratefully. “I-I’d like to hold my little girl in my arms again, Oliver.”

“Then I’ll do my best to make sure you get that chance,” Oliver said. The two fell silent, picking away at their Denny’s Thanksgiving meal. “Laurel,” Oliver said suddenly.

“What?” Henry asked.

“You asked what I’m thankful for,” Oliver said. “I’m thankful for Laurel. She’s been my rock for the past few weeks. Every time she’s been taken, it’s been like a dagger to the heart, because I’m sure that this time, _this time_ is gonna be the time that she realizes that I’m a threat to her by being around her and cast me away. But she doesn’t. Instead, she pulls me close and she tells me that she _chose_ this, that she _chose_ the danger. I am so thankful, and so very lucky that she sees something in me that she wants in her life, Henry. Having the love of your life as your partner in all things? It’s the most unbelievable sensation in the world, and I’m thankful that I get to feel that.” Oliver picked at his turkey for a moment. “How about you?”

“I’m thankful that I’m working with you,” Henry said. “I know when we first started out, I was an arrogant ass and you scared me shitless, but ever since I came back after what happened to Miss Smoak, we’ve been doing a lot of good work. And even before then, like when we crippled the Triad. What you’re doing, what I’m _helping_ you do? It’s something worthwhile, and I never felt that way on any of the assignments Waller’s given me before. So, thank you, Oliver. Thank you for choosing me, and for bringing me back onboard.”

“You’re welcome, Henry,” Oliver said, and the two of them fell into a companionable silence as they continued to eat their Thanksgiving meal. It wasn’t the rich bounty of other families, but the company they had was a different kind of family. **_*2*_**

**_*DC*_ **

The Lances were all around the table at Laurel’s new apartment, it being the only place they were able to gather. Dinah had even come in from Central City to spend time with her family, and both of her daughters were aware that their father was hoping to recapture that sense of family they had once had and bring Dinah back to Starling so they could be reunited. While Laurel had told Sara about some of the things that had happened between their parents after the _Gambit_ went down, Sara was holding out hope that her family could be healed, and she had a plan in mind if the opportunity presented itself.

As it was, chatter around the table was very low. Dinah had cooked the meal with Quentin’s help, and both the sisters had noticed that Dinah had seemed receptive to Quentin’s flirtations. Even Laurel was holding out hope things might get back to normal, or as normal as their lives could be considering that Laurel was picking at her food, depressed, thinking of her boyfriend, stuck in his new hideout (The Quiver) with just his tech support for company. Her heart ached to be with him, to tell him just how thankful she was that he was back in her life, that he was doing what he was doing for the city, that he was _there_. But she couldn’t, because if she saw him, so would the police that followed her everywhere she went that thought she didn’t know they were there, and then he’d be back on the hitlist of whoever tried to have him killed.

“How about we say what we’re thankful for?” Quentin said suddenly. The women around the table looked up, raising their eyebrows. “It’s just… this is the first Thanksgiving we’ve had all together in five years. I think we should mark the occasion with a new tradition.”

“Sounds good, Dad,” Sara said after a moment. “I’ll start if that’s okay.” Quentin nodded encouragingly. “I’m thankful for Oliver,” she said, and Quentin felt his stomach drop. “I can’t tell you everything, but before I came back, I was in a bad place. Ollie got me out of there, offered me the chance to come home. I didn’t take it when I should have, but when I came back, he tricked me into meeting Laurel, and because of that, I started thinking about coming out of the shadows, back into the light. Without Oliver, I’d still be a phantom, living in the shadows, cowering away from things like hope and love. And I’m thankful for family, that I had all of you here when I was resurrected, even though we didn’t have much time together before I headed off to Metropolis.”

The table fell silent as the Lance parents absorbed what their daughter had said. Apparently, Oliver had been much more instrumental in bringing her home than they had believed, and both acknowledged they owed the man for that, though the best they could do was offer their support at his eventual trial. Finally, Dinah spoke up. “I’m grateful to Oliver as well, I suppose. He gave us the hope that Sara was alive, let us know when she was back in Starling, and now I find out he apparently brought her back. Everything I’m grateful for, sitting around this table, is because of Oliver Queen.”

Quentin was beginning to look more than a little uncomfortable, because this was not going how he expected at all, and he knew his eldest was certainly going to add to the praise of Queen. Sure enough, Laurel started with, “I’m thankful for Oliver as well. He told me he believed Sara was alive, has saved my life five times, has sacrificed everything to fight for the people of this city who a criminal elite step on to elevate themselves, and he reunited me with my little sister. For five years, I held nothing but anger for him, but now… Now, I just wish I could be sitting here with him at my side, instead of hiding away wherever he’s set up.” She fell silent, once more picking at her food.

Quentin was conflicted. He had hoped that the big takeaway here would be that they were thankful their family was together, but everything his wife and daughters had said had just illustrated how much he owed a _vigilante_. “I suppose I’m thankful for him, too,” Quentin finally said. “But at the end of the day, he’s a vigilante, and that road only ends two ways. Something I want everyone around this table to remember.” He looked briefly at Laurel before gazing significantly at Sara, who raised her eyebrows.

“Something you wanna say, Dad?” Sara asked calmly.

“That Detective Sawyer faxed me a copy of the report about you taking out those thugs in Metropolis,” Quentin said. “I know whatever you’ve been doing, it’s something like Queen’s doing now. Please, Sara, don’t join him in his madness.”

“It’s not madness, Dad,” Sara said softly. “But I know you won’t believe me. I wouldn’t believe me if I didn’t know all the details. But what Oliver is doing is going to save countless lives. And yes, I support him in what he’s doing. Maybe I will join him, maybe I won’t. It’ll be a while before I’m able to do anything, so that doesn’t really matter.”

Quentin returned to his meal, not saying anything. The women around the table all returned to their meals as well, not wanting to start an argument for their first Thanksgiving together in five years. **_*3*_**

**_*DC*_ **

A few floors below the Lances and on the eastern side of the building, the Allens were sitting at the table with the Wests, who had traveled out here to see the Allen family’s new home and catch up. Iris and Barry had been joking around earlier, to the indulgent smiles of their fathers, but now their conversation was taking a serious turn that was startling their fathers. It all started when Iris saw Barry was picking at his food, a thoughtful frown on his face. “What’s wrong, Bar?” Iris said. “Pretty sure the turkey’s as good as always. Dad really prides himself on that, you know.” It had been said with a teasing grin in Joe’s direction, who had smiled appreciatively. Barry didn’t respond. “Bar, you’re kinda starting to scare me.”

“Sorry, Iris,” Barry said quietly. “I’m just thinking about what Oliver must be going through. Wherever he is, he’s all alone for Thanksgiving, and even if hadn’t been outed as Green Arrow, all he would have is his sister. It’s made me appreciate what I have all the more. I have Dad back, and I’ve always had you and Joe, and I’m just realizing how lucky I am. Joe could’ve decided I wasn’t worth the trouble after the sixth or seventh time I tried to get to Iron Heights to visit Dad and let me rot in the foster system.”

“That was never gonna happen, Barry,” Joe said firmly. “You were a scared kid who had just essentially lost both parents. You needed someone who would love and support you, and I know enough about foster families to know that that’s a rarity. Most of them are just in it for the paycheck.” **_*4*_**

“I know that now,” Barry said quietly. “But for years, I waited for the other shoe to drop. I never really understood why until recently. We’re a family, all of us. And I guess realizing what Oliver’s missing out on today is just hitting me hard.”

Joe sighed. “He’s missing out on being with his family because he chose to take the law into his own hands, and then escape from police custody after confessing to everything,” he said. “I know you have this idea that the system doesn’t work because of what happened to Henry, but most of the time, Barry, it does, and what Oliver Queen was doing, what he’s still doing, is wrong. He’s a criminal, and a crazy one at that with that wild conspiracy theory about this ‘Tempest’.”

“He’s not crazy!” Barry said defensively. “And in my opinion, he’s not a criminal, either. He’s a hero.”

“He’s a killer, Barry,” Joe said plainly. “He killed James Holder, and Leo Mueller, and who knows how many mafiosos and Bratva thugs.”

“I know,” Barry said, “but that doesn’t change the fact that I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for him!”

A stunned silence fell over the table, and both Wests and Henry stared at Barry in consternation. “What are you talking about, Barry?” Henry asked finally. “Does this have anything to do with why you’ve been so withdrawn since the mob war happened? Or do you just mean he recruited you and you wouldn’t be in Starling City without him doing that?”

Barry hesitated, then decided it was worth it. He knew even if Joe disagreed with him, he wouldn’t tell the S.C.P.D. what Barry told him now. “The night the mob war started, I was working late when Oliver showed up,” he said. “It was maybe ten p.m. He logged into the computer and looked into military projects Queen Consolidated had on record. He found one he called ‘promising’, the RQ-1141 Tactical Hardsuit. It’s what he was wearing for the mob war. We were looking at it when three Mafia guys showed up. I thought we were dead, but Oliver just said something about them being too cliché, then tricked them into letting him get close. He killed them to save us both and then made a phone call to get it all cleaned up. I helped him load the hardsuit into his car and then I left. The next morning when I came in, there was no sign of the dead guys. I deleted all references to the RQ-1141 so no one could trace it back to Oliver.”

Silence was once more the name of the game at the table. “You _covered_ for him?” Iris asked her best friend in disbelief. “Not just stealing a military project worth millions of dollars and then erasing the fact it existed, but also killing three people?” Barry nodded. “What has Starling City done to you, Barry? You never would’ve done something like that before you moved here.”

“Really, Iris?” Barry asked skeptically. “Think about that for a moment. Would I really not have helped someone I see as a hero?” Iris was silent, knowing Barry was telling the truth. He would have helped Oliver even before he moved to Starling because he had bored Iris silly with his commentary about what kind of environment that the Green Arrow must’ve trained in because of him wearing green, and about where he had learned archery and his hand-to-hand skills, and his motivations, and… the list went on.

“I can’t believe what I’m hearing,” Joe mumbled to himself. Henry was in a similar boat. He hadn’t realized his son’s disconnect with the law had run _this_ deep.

Suffice to say, the rest of Thanksgiving dinner in the Allen household was eaten in an uncomfortable silence.

**_*DC*_ **

Malcolm Merlyn sat at the dining room table at the Merlyn Manor, which was full this Thanksgiving. The Mayor, the Commissioner, the District Attorney and their families were all gathered at the Merlyn Manor along with Malcolm and his children, the very pinnacle of power in Starling City. He wanted to remind Tommy that Starling was important and begin to indoctrinate Thea to his way of thinking, and showcasing the depth of his connections to Starling, the length of his reach, was among the first steps in both directions.

“I’m sorry that this is such a troubling time for you, Miss Queen,” Mayor Altman said. “But I’m glad you still have family, such as Malcolm.”

“I’m glad, too,” Thea said quietly. “It’s just hard. Last year, I had Mom and Walter. This year, I thought I’d have them and Ollie. But now Ollie’s on the run, and Mom and Walter are dead.”

“I’m sorry if I made things worse with my comments,” Mayor Altman said at seeing the look on Malcolm’s face.

“No, it’s okay,” Thea said. “People are going to be talking about Ollie, what he’s done, who he’s become.” She fell silent for a moment. “I told him to stop.”

“Stop?” Commissioner Nudocerdo couldn’t help but ask.

“China White called him Mr. Queen when she had a knife to my throat,” Thea said. “I’ve known since the night he saved me who Green Arrow was. When the F.B.I. rolled into town, I begged him to stop, to leave Green Arrow behind, to just be my _brother_.”

“What did he say to that?” Adam Donner asked, genuinely curious, a curiosity that Malcolm, Tommy, and everyone else around the table shared. This was knowledge no one had, how deeply committed Oliver Queen was to his vigilante lifestyle.

Thea swallowed. “He told me, ‘Oliver Queen is the Green Arrow, and the Green Arrow is Oliver Queen.’ He said that if he stopped, he would be denying the city the shepherd it needed to guide it through the darkness, that he would be denying who he is at his core.”

There were more than a few thoughtful expressions around the table. Tommy was certain that this was proof that Oliver was unwell, that he believed his dual identities were inseparable and he really was this modern-day Robin Hood that the press was touting him as.

Donner was musing over the fact that it might be better to play along with Thomas Merlyn’s pressure to commit Queen to a psychiatric facility when he was finally captured rather than sending him to Slabside.

Malcolm was thinking that Oliver was lending credence to his son’s thought process and that he might not need to kill Oliver after all, not if the police found a way to capture him and send him off to Slabside or Sherwood Acres. But he would kill Oliver if need be; he would regret it, but the Undertaking could not be sacrificed for anyone.

Nudocerdo considered what Thea Queen had just revealed. Her brother was completely committed to being Green Arrow, to the point that not even a plea from his beloved sister would convince him to stand down. That meant he was a true believer in what he was doing, and he wouldn’t just surrender to the police. He scowled, realizing this meant Queen had always intended to escape from them and had just surrendered and confessed in order to save his little Maid Marion girlfriend, Laurel Lance. But it did mean that he could issue a shoot to kill order on Queen, since he was armed, dangerous, and clearly unlikely to stand down, which would (as he would tell the press when they demanded an explanation for Queen’s death) put his officers in danger. But he wouldn’t speak those thoughts aloud here, not in earshot of Thea Queen.

Thomas Altman was a political animal. He had kept his own opinion on Green Arrow quiet, because once he committed to one path or another, he would face backlash from either Queen’s supporters or detractors, especially now that the divide between those who supported him and those who decried him was growing and battle lines were being drawn, with the overwhelming majority of Starling citizens seeming to fall in the support column. The office of the mayor had issued no official statement on the subject of Oliver Queen’s exposure as Green Arrow and would continue to maintain such a silence as far as Altman was concerned. But in private, Altman couldn’t help but think that things were changing in the world. He had read the reports. The vigilante from Gotham had branched out into his city, aided the Green Arrow. Queen was acting openly for some reason, and Altman didn’t like that he had no idea why. But the world was _changing_. The _Daily Planet_ ’s Lois Lane and Clark Kent, their premier reporters, had even written a fluff piece about Oliver Queen which had seen the _Planet_ being bought out from every news stall in Starling, not to mention earning more than a few subscriptions. The _Daily Star_ had written a more objective piece, but it still leaned in a favorable direction for Queen. Yes, the world was changing, and Altman was afraid that it was going to be a world where politicians couldn’t hide and would have to take stances, something he tried to avoid.

Thea stood. “May I be excused?”

“Of course,” Malcolm said. “I’ll make sure a plate is set aside later in case you get hungry.” Thea nodded mutely and left the dining room. “I appreciate your need for information, gentlemen, but I don’t appreciate you springing such questions on my daughter, especially on a holiday where she is suffering from losing so many family members.”

“I apologize, Mr. Merlyn,” Nudocerdo said. “It is just we have so little information on Queen’s motivations, and he has just threatened a city councilwoman.”

“Yes, that is troubling news,” Malcolm said. “But I trust that the S.C.P.D. will do all that is necessary to keep everyone involved safe.” That should be suitably vague to keep Tommy from realizing he in no way meant for the S.C.P.D. to keep Oliver safe. As far as he was concerned, they could gun Oliver down when he went for Pollard tomorrow night, and Malcolm would pour himself a nightcap in celebration if they did. **_*5*_**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter.
> 
> Chapter Notes:
> 
> *1* So, I decided to check into where in November they would be now that it’s been six weeks in-story. “Arrow” premiered on October 10, so using that as the starting date, I tracked it forward, and six weeks after the premiere would’ve been the day before Thanksgiving (which we didn’t get an episode for due to the holiday, the Huntress duology beginning to air the week after). And now you know why Pollard was confused. She has no one to celebrate with so she ignores the holiday.
> 
> *2* Writing this scene was an interesting exercise, because here are two men, cut off from everyone they love who are finding comfort in each other’s companionship and sharing personal details with one another. It’s a step forward in their relationship, and will be a major part of the story, and series, moving forward because now Oliver’s made a promise to Henry, and like Slade, he keeps his promises.
> 
> *3* So, originally, I was going to have some drama with Dinah finally revealing that she knew Sara got on the “Gambit”, but I felt like Quentin would want to try and focus his family on coming back together and it would be funny to force him to see how much he has to be thankful for because of Oliver Queen. There’s always *next* Thanksgiving…
> 
> *4* I’ve thought a lot about the fact that Joe, the arresting officer, was the one who got custody of Barry, and the only thing I can think of for why he didn’t give up, or get rid of Barry when he realized he had feelings for Iris, is because of something like this. I may not like Joe’s attitude towards Oliver or when things get ‘complicated’, but one can’t deny the love Joe has for Barry.
> 
> *5* Ah, poor Thea. She’s starting to come around, but she’s still stuck on the fact that her brother chose Green Arrow over her. Meanwhile, Malcolm continues to have delusions of grandeur…


	52. Pollard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So, the past couple of days, I’ve been having some major depression issues, and I’ve finally realized that each episode is precipitated by a period of anxiety over how people will like the finished-but-unpublished chapters of this story. This is also causing me to struggle with writing the sequel. So, even though it might mean less comments and/or kudos from readers, I’m going to be posting the remaining chapters and afterword all in one go. 
> 
> For those who read and review every chapter, I deeply appreciate that you do this and if you choose to continue doing that, I will love you for it. But I won’t blame you if you get into a binge-reading mindset, especially as we move towards the climax of the story. I’ve been known to binge-read and forget to review, myself. I would take it as a compliment that people see my work as worthy of binge-reading in such a manner.

As evening descended on the day after Thanksgiving, Oliver Queen began suiting up. “I’ll deploy the hacking arrow as soon as I have a chance, and from there, it’s up to you to dig into Pollard’s home network and mine it for information,” Oliver said as he zipped up the Kevlar-lined ‘jacket’ that made up the top portion of his original uniform. “She’ll have _something_ that we can use, Henry, but on the off-chance she doesn’t have anything on her home network, use the time to get into her campaign accounts, drain them, and then we’ll make sure people hurt by her support of the likes of Claybourne and Midas get restitution. It might not bring those they care about back, but it’s all we might be able to do.”

“Too bad she didn’t go for your bluff,” Henry said. “You would think with how well you’ve dealt with things she would’ve taken that a little more seriously.”

“Pollard is just arrogant enough to feel she’s untouchable,” Oliver said, strapping on the flechette around his left forearm and pulling on the gloves. “The point of Green Arrow is to remind the criminal elite that they can be touched, whether they’re a thug lord or a city councilwoman.”

“Too bad this might mean she doesn’t get taken down in the courts, though,” Henry said unhappily.

“Henry, if it turns out we can’t nail her to the wall, then I’ll put an arrow in her,” Oliver said grimly. “She’s a domestic terrorist, working with a man who plans to destroy the Glades. I’m technically working for A.R.G.U.S. Legally, I have the _right_ to kill her as an enemy combatant. The courts are just option A.”

“Might see you lose support with the people, though,” Henry reminded him.

“I’m not in this to win a popularity contest, and when all is said and done, the people will know the truth,” Oliver said, pressing his mask into place. “But we know my mother had the _Gambit_ as leverage against Merlyn if he ever turned on her. I’m betting the rest of Tempest have their own fail-safes. Like I said, Pollard is arrogant. I can see her keeping her fail-safe on her computer.”

“If it’s there, Oliver, I’ll find it,” Henry said. Oliver loaded his flechette with taser bolts and stocked his quiver with the arrows needed. Pollard had police protection, which meant he was going to have to take this from a different angle. If he went in through the windows like last time, he would get riddled with bullets. He would have to go in through the rooftop access and enter Pollard’s apartment from the hallway. According to Henry’s tap into the security feed for both the building and the councilwoman’s apartment, there were ten officers guarding her inside of her apartment and six in the hallway outside of the apartment. Two of the cops inside were Lucas Hilton and Quentin Lance. Oliver didn’t relish the idea of having to knock out his girlfriend’s father, but there was nothing for it, because he knew Quentin wouldn’t just stand down. At least Quentin didn’t have a heart condition now, like he had had after the Siege. A taser bolt should be enough to put him down without causing any undue harm.

Green Arrow, finished with his preparations, headed for the garage.

**_*DC*_ **

When the Green Arrow appeared at the end of the hallway, racing forward and drawing an arrow, the six officers of the S.C.P.D. protection detail on Councilwoman Pollard drew their weapons. Green Arrow fired his arrow, which landed in the center of the officers. They got off one shot each, Green Arrow flattening himself against the wall, before the magnetic arrow that he had fired activated. Their weapons were pulled from their grasp, but the S.C.P.D. officers weren’t like the thugs Green Arrow normally dealt with, who went for the physical confrontation when disarmed. Instead, two of the officers moved forward to engage Green Arrow while the other four attempted to seize their weapons, huddling around the magnetic arrow. A second arrow joined the first, but this one released a cloud of sleeping gas that enveloped the four men. They staggered away from the pile of weapons before collapsing.

The other two officers had reached Green Arrow, who blocked the right cross of one officer with his bow while delivering a kick to the second officer’s midsection, sending him stumbling back. Green Arrow caught the officer who had attempted to hit him with a right cross in a chokehold, delivering a high kick to the second officer’s chin as he came at Green Arrow. The officer went down with a split lip and seeing stars for the moment while the officer caught in the chokehold slowly succumbed, at which point Green Arrow let him drop before firing a bolo arrow at the downed but still conscious officer. “Sorry about this,” Green Arrow said, truly apologetic, before he made his towards the front door of Pollard’s apartment. He delivered a powerful kick to the door, busting it open. He withdrew a smoke pellet from a pouch on his belt and threw it through the door. Smoke filled the area around the door, and Green Arrow crouched low, peering through the smoke. He could see the legs of the S.C.P.D. officers waiting for him to appear. He drew a magnetic arrow, then fired. As he heard the clatter of metal on metal, he raced out of the smoke, sliding on the floor and coming up, delivering strikes to the back of three officers’ skulls with his bow, knocking them down. He fired a pair of bolo arrows to contain them then dived behind the couch as the other seven officers, including Quentin and Hilton, raced into the room. Green Arrow stood quickly, firing the hacking arrow that would boost the signal so Henry could hack into Pollard’s home network as close to her home office as he could get it, then flattened himself against the back of the couch.

“Give it up, Oliver, you’re outnumbered,” Quentin called out.

“John Byrne had thirty mean sons of bitches, all of whom were waiting to rip me apart with their weapons,” Green Arrow called back. “Compared to them, Detective, the S.C.P.D. is the equivalent of a playfully-growling kitten.”

“ **I’m into the network, G.A., working on copying every last file the bitch has,** ” Oversight said over the comms. “ **Keep them busy.** ”

“Oliver, please, listen to me,” Quentin said. “I’ve known you since you were eight years old. For my daughter’s sake as much as your own, surrender to us now. Laurel loves you, Oliver, and word out of the D.A.’s office is they’re considering Tommy’s suggestion. You surrender now, go to Sherwood Acres to get treatment, and you and Laurel could have a fresh start as soon as next summer. Please, Oliver. Don’t make me give the order.” Quentin’s tone was begging.

“I love Laurel, too, Quentin,” Green Arrow called back. “And I do want a future with her. But not at the expense of thousands of lives. Tempest, which Pollard is a part of, is planning something horrible, and I will not let them succeed.”

“Tempest is just in your imagination, Queen,” Lucas Hilton said. “A part of your Robin Hood delusion.”

Green Arrow suddenly drew and fired a magnetic arrow directly upward. He heard the clatter of metal on metal, and rose from his position, firing bolo arrow after bolo arrow, catching each of the cops and tying them up. Oliver walked around the couch and crouched down beside Quentin, who glared at him. “I appreciate that you want to help me for Laurel’s sake, Detective,” Green Arrow said as the guns that had been pulled from the cops’ grasps landed on the couch. “But I am doing this _for_ her, and for everyone else in this city who struggles against the crime and corruption that has infested it because a select few have made themselves the oligarchs of this city. I will bring Starling City back from the brink, Detective, and I hope one day that you’ll see that.” Green Arrow tilted his head. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re trying to do, Detective. I know about the thirty cops that were signaled after I broke the door down. I’ll be done before they ever get here.”

“You can’t get to Pollard and then out in such a short time, Oliver,” Quentin said.

“Who said I’m here for _Pollard_?” Green Arrow asked, amused. “Just like that arrogant bitch to think that _she_ was my target.”

Quentin’s head shot up and around to the arrow that the Emerald Archer had fired earlier. His eyes widened as he saw the rapidly blinking light. “You got someone helping you, digging through her files for something,” he realized.

“Not just digging,” Green Arrow replied. “ _Copying_. Every last dirty secret Emily Pollard has kept is going to be revealed, and when that happens, her career and her life are over.” He activated his comms. “Oversight?”

“ **We got the motherlode, G.A.,** ” Oversight replied. “ **Recordings of conversations with Midas and Claybourne about their experiments. She’s going down, and so are they.** ”

“Excellent,” Green Arrow said, rising to his feet. He turned and fired an explosive arrow at the nearby window, which exploded afterwards. The wind from this high up ruffled both his and Quentin’s hair.

“We’re going to find you, you know,” Quentin said. “Wherever you’re hiding, we’re gonna find you. This was your last chance to come peacefully. Nudocerdo’s put a shoot-to-kill order on you.”

“Then I guess I’ll have to be extra-careful then,” Green Arrow said, before taking a running leap out of the apartment just as S.W.A.T. piled through the front door. Green Arrow was in freefall for nearly twenty seconds before he drew and fired a grappling arrow at a nearby building. The line drew taught and he held on tight as he was pulled skyward to the roof of the building behind which he had parked his bike. “Once you know what we’ve got, send everything to Susan Williams and Agent Trimble,” Green Arrow ordered Oversight.

“ **Will do, boss,** ” came the reply.

**_*DC*_ **

Darius Trimble and Alex Danvers entered the residence of Councilwoman Emily Pollard to find that the commissioner was on-site, something that displeased both of them because they knew he would try to make problems for them. Unfortunately for him, he didn’t have the authority to stop what was coming, not with what they had just found out. “Emily Pollard,” Trimble said, coming to a stop in front of the councilwoman and commissioner, “you’re under arrest for conspiracy to commit terrorism.”

“Terrorism?” Pollard scoffed.

“Your compatriots James Midas and Justin Claybourne are being picked up as we speak,” Trimble said grimly. “Midas has been crafting and selling specialized ammunition, in direct violation of the Geneva Conventions, with your knowledge. Claybourne created a treatment for tuberculosis, tested a weaponized form of the virus on a clinic here in Starling City, and then unleashed the weaponized virus on Lamb Valley before ratcheting up the price of his treatment. Again, all with your knowledge and support.” **_*1*_**

“What’s your proof?” Nudocerdo asked. Tempest had told him to keep Pollard safe, but what could he do if the F.B.I. had proof that she was up to no good?

“Recordings were delivered to us, recordings of conversations Ms. Pollard here had with both Midas and Claybourne,” Trimble said, and he watched in satisfaction as Pollard paled. “I see you know what I’m talking about. Agent Danvers, please inform the prisoner of her rights and cuff her.” Alex began to do just that. “As for you, Commissioner, this is now a federal crime scene. We can’t have anyone tampering with potential evidence of Ms. Pollard’s wrongdoings. I’m going to need you and your people to clear out of here. Now.”

“You heard him,” Nudocerdo said after a brief stare down (which he lost). “Let’s pack it up, people.” The police and C.S.I. team slowly packed away their gear and left the scene, leaving only the F.B.I. agents and their own forensics team.

“Sweep the whole apartment, people, and Reynolds, I want you to get on the network here, confirm the intel we got is accurate,” Trimble said. Reynolds nodded and headed for Pollard’s home office. Pollard just stood there, stunned, as if she couldn’t quite believe this was happening, as the cuffs closed around her wrists.

**_*DC*_ **

“So, we got three birds with one stone,” Henry said gloatingly. “Don’t tell me you’re not feeling a little celebratory, Oliver.”

“Not in the way you mean, no,” Oliver said dryly. “I’m certainly satisfied that we got Midas and Claybourne with this takedown as well, but that wasn’t the goal. Pollard was, and in that regard, I’m very pleased, because we just cut down another member of Tempest. Merlyn is going to be hurting with this once it hits the news and Pollard is sent away for her involvement with Midas and Claybourne’s experiments.”

“Really? You’re not even in the tiniest mood for a celebratory drink?” Henry asked, withdrawing two beers from the refrigerator. Oliver stood silent for a moment, then accepted one of the beers. “Thought so,” Henry said smugly as the two men cracked open their beers and took a swig of the bitter liquid.

“Just don’t let it cloud your senses too much,” Oliver said. “You’ll need them when you start digging into Councilman Kullens.”

“All work, no play makes Henry a dull boy,” Henry complained.

“Sorry, Henry,” Oliver said. “You’re right. We should take a moment to celebrate the victory. I guess I’m just not in much of a celebratory mood. But don’t let me ruin your enjoyment of the takedown. You did good work tonight.” Oliver left his barely-touched beer on the table, heading for the cots. Henry watched him, concerned. He hoped Oliver wasn’t becoming depressed because of his current situation, stuck on the run and unable to talk to his girlfriend except through encrypted phones, and even then, only when he was absolutely certain that she would be able to answer.

**_*DC*_ **

The news of the reasons for Emily Pollard’s arrest, and those of James Midas and Justin Claybourne, had its own breaking news segment the next morning, and those watching the news who had wondered about Green Arrow’s reason for targeting a city councilwoman were gratified to know that their faith in Green Arrow wasn’t misplaced and he was continuing to expose crime and corruption at the highest levels of Starling City society. Laurel and Sara Lance were among those relieved at the news that Oliver had had good reason for targeting Pollard, both of them having heard from their father about Oliver trussing him up last night before flinging himself out the window to escape S.W.A.T. Apparently, Quentin had tried to talk Oliver down, for Laurel’s sake, and it hadn’t worked.

Laurel supported Oliver, and she knew what was at stake, but a small, selfish part of her wanted all of this to be over so that they could be together again. She still wondered how Oliver expected to be able to do what he did after being pardoned, assuming he was right and his contacts (who she would bet were those two women that she and Thea had met in the Bunker, Amanda something and Agent Michaels) could get him a pardon. Laurel knew Oliver couldn’t stop being Green Arrow; he had told her what he had told Thea when the girl had begged him to stop: Oliver Queen is the Green Arrow, and the Green Arrow is Oliver Queen. He wouldn’t be able to stop once Merlyn was taken down. He would go out again after being pardoned, and Laurel couldn’t see how he would avoid having to go on the run again.

In the meantime, Sara was coaching her through meditation daily, and it _was_ helping with her recall and clarity of thought. And maybe it was her imagination, but she felt she was more limber after meditation, as well. She had asked Sara about this, but her little sister had just smiled mysteriously and said meditation helped in many ways.

**_*DC*_ **

Malcolm Merlyn scowled as he watched the news in the privacy of his office. Another member of Tempest had been taken out of play by Oliver’s actions. First Moira committed suicide to avoid being questioned after the _Queen’s Gambit_ was discovered by Oliver and Walter, then Frank Chen vanished, presumably renditioned by Oliver’s government contacts, and now Oliver had exposed Pollard’s connection to two of Starling City’s elite businessmen who were involved in actions that fell under the category of terrorism. Malcolm would have to find a way to keep the remaining members of Tempest, particularly Carl Ballard who desperately wanted to gentrify a part of the Glades to pad his pocket, comforted and staying the course.

In the meantime, he was going to have his agents in Central City begin working on finding the best time to take Samantha and William Clayton. His agents here in Starling had indicated that Sara Lance was apparently going to open a business, a flower shop, in the Glades, and would no longer be guarding her sister. Thea, of course, was now living under his roof with Tommy, presenting a united front so that the press wouldn’t bother her, and would thus be available should he need to put pressure on Oliver by threatening those he loved. Of course, if it ever reached that point, it was likely that Malcolm would have to kill not only Oliver, but also Thea, Samantha, William, and Laurel as well. Thea, he would regret since she was his own flesh and blood as much as Oliver’s, but the other three?

Samantha Clayton was a psychiatrist and not a well-known or well-respected one, and so her death would have minimal impact on Central City and none on Starling City. William Clayton was a child, yes, but he was _Oliver’s_ child, the son of Malcolm’s enemy, and nothing broke an enemy more than to lose that which they considered most precious. William was a brilliant boy for a six-year-old, but how far would that brilliance really take him, without the Queen fortune providing the best education that money could buy? Then, of course, there was Laurel Lance. The crusading young attorney that had ensnared Tommy’s heart before crushing it by choosing his best friend, as she always had since they were children, and who was doing just as much damage to Malcolm’s efforts to contain crime within the Glades through her work and leadership at C.N.R.I., which Oliver had saved from extinction with his incredibly generous five million dollars, and then further gotten others to commit to funding the legal aid office. The revelation that Oliver was Green Arrow had not seen those offered contributions rescinded. If anything, they had seen the contributions increased, at least from those who lived in Starling. No doubt they didn’t want Oliver Queen visiting them. **_*2*_**

Oliver was proving to be a very grave threat to everything Malcolm was working towards, and it was entirely possible that he had more than just the government backing him. The abundance of media coverage of Green Arrow’s work, even before the revelation of who he was, should have seen some kind of interest from the League’s end of things, but Malcolm had seen _nothing_ of the League, and that frightened him more than Oliver’s slow dismantling of his life’s work. For if Oliver had the League’s backing, that meant Ra’s al Ghul knew what Malcolm was doing, and Malcolm would prefer death at Oliver’s hands or imprisonment in a maximum-security facility like Slabside over the fate the Demon’s Head would inflict upon him.

All in all, with almost seven weeks passed since the arrival of the Green Arrow, everything Malcolm had been working towards was in jeopardy, and the only chance at stopping it might be to act openly and bring Green Arrow to him. Unless… there might just be one way to take care of this without risking his identity. Malcolm smiled. It would be bitterly ironic to use those people to bring his enemy to his knees, and oh-so-satisfying.

**_*DC*_ **

Oliver and Roy had finished another training session and were toweling off when Roy asked a question that surprised Oliver. “I thought you said your sister was living in Metropolis now with your best friend?”

“She is,” Oliver confirmed. “Why?”

“Uh, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but she’s living in Starling still,” Roy said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Saw the news on my way here. Reporters are camped outside both Merlyn Manor and Berlanti Preparatory, hoping to get a comment from Green Arrow’s sister. Apparently, she and your best friend are living with Daddy dearest. She’s Merlyn Sr.’s kid?”

“Biologically, yes,” Oliver said distantly. “Thank you for telling me, Roy. I didn’t realize Tommy had moved them back to Starling.”

“No problem,” Roy said. “See you tomorrow.” He headed for the garage-side exit, having come in through the office space. Oliver watched him go, expression troubled. The last place he wanted Thea to be was Merlyn Manor, under the thumb of her psychopathic and genocidal father. Yet there was nothing he could do about it. Tommy was her guardian, while Oliver was a fugitive from the law and would remain so at least until Merlyn was taken down, perhaps longer if Waller refused to push for a pardon for him so that she could make him the leader of Task Force X, something that he wouldn’t be shocked by in the least.

“You okay, Oliver?” Henry asked cautiously.

“Just didn’t expect to find out Thea’s living with Merlyn, is all,” Oliver replied. “I just hope she isn’t letting him worm his way into her heart. It’ll break her when I have to take him down.”

“I’m sorry,” Henry said. “In the meantime, you wanted me to look into Councilman Kullens?”

“Yeah,” Oliver said. “What have you got?”

“Kullens receives kickbacks from every major company in the city, including yours,” Henry said. “This is because he smooths over any legislation that threatens their interests and makes sure to pass bills that ease up the restrictions they can work under, as well as rezoning parts of the city for industrial construction rather than domestic.”

_Sounds about right,_ Oliver thought grimly, remembering what Christopher Chance had told him about the conversation he had had with Kullens while pretending to be Oliver to fool Tobias Church. “And what happened to the people who had homes in the rezoned areas?”

“They received low-ball offers on their property from the companies in question. Dozens of them are still in the Glades, most of them homeless, surviving at shelters and getting treatment at the Merlyn clinic,” Henry replied.

“I think those people deserve a chance at a new life, don’t you, Henry?” Oliver asked lightly.

“Sounds good to me,” Henry said.

“Keep digging, in case there’s something more about Kullens we need to know,” Oliver said. “We’ll give it a few days, maybe a week, then strike at Kullens.” Henry nodded and returned to his work.

**_*DC*_ **

Samantha Clayton had swung by Jitters to grab a coffee for herself and a hot cocoa for her son, knowing it would cool enough in the time it took to get home that he would be able to drink it (six-year-olds had such sensitive mouths). Samantha, despite her desire to avoid news about the man whose mother had driven her away from Starling City and nearly ruined her life, had ended up hearing the news about Oliver Queen. That he wasn’t just the C.E.O. of Queen Consolidated but that he had been and continued to be Starling City’s resident vigilante, the Green Arrow. He was on the run from the law now, and Samantha’s mind often went to how her son would react if he knew who Green Arrow was.

Being only six-years-old, William’s imagination was caught up in the excitement of what Green Arrow represented, a modern-day, real-life superhero who stood up against criminals and corrupt businessmen and supported the people. Samantha had caught William looking up stories about Green Arrow on his computer a couple of times and tried to curb his interest in the man he didn’t know was his father. How would William react if he realized his hero was his father? Would he want to go to Starling City to try and find the Green Arrow, to find his father? Or would he suddenly be frightened, knowing his father was always in danger because of what he did?

Samantha blinked. She could swear she had seen that man at her office earlier today. She shook her head, clearing her mind. If she had, he was probably there to see one of the therapists. Jitters was a popular coffee spot in Central City. Getting back to the matter at hand, in the end, Samantha knew William would never find out about his father, because she wasn’t going to tell either of them about the other and she doubted Moira Queen had come clean to Oliver when he returned home. She had made it very clear what she thought of Samantha and the child she was carrying. Samantha still had the second check that Moira had sent her, having only cashed the first one to pay for the services she needed during her pregnancy, her schooling, and William’s early education. The first check had been for keeping quiet, and she had _needed_ the money to get through the pregnancy, especially since her very Christian parents had condemned her for having a child out of wedlock and wouldn’t support her. But cashing the second check would’ve meant she _owed_ the Queens something, and she didn’t want Moira, or Oliver now, to feel like they were owed being a part of William’s life. **_*3*_**

Samantha accepted her order from the young barista and headed for the door, not aware of the man she had noticed earlier pulling out a cell phone and making a call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter.
> 
> Chapter Notes:
> 
> *1* Technically speaking, what both Midas and Claybourne were up to counts as terrorism. Midas made specialized bullets and sold them to criminals and terrorists while Claybourne deployed a biological weapon to reap the benefits. Both could be considered acts of domestic terrorism, and anyone who knew about it and covered for them would be guilty of conspiracy. I did consider having Pollard’s role in Tempest exposed, even wrote a good chunk of the chapter in that way, but it just didn’t flow right to me. It felt like I was jumping the shark, so I backtracked and did this.
> 
> *2* Okay, writing this paragraph and especially Malcolm’s blasé attitude towards killing William made me feel really icky. I mean, more so than writing Malcolm usually makes me feel like. Yet I feel this is in-character with Malcolm, seeing as he kidnapped William and handed him over to Darhk for something as petty as being dethroned as Ra’s al Ghul.
> 
> *3* Something that the “Arrow” writers somehow forgot between 2x20 and 4x08 was that Moira gave Samantha two checks, with each being for a million dollars. Samantha only had one when Oliver came to see her in 4x08 and was living very comfortably, so my head-canon is she used the original check, the one given to her when she left town, to provide herself and later William with everything they needed until she was earning money from her own career, but refused to cash the second check (presumably sent after William’s birth), keeping it as a reminder of why she didn’t want her son involved in the Queens’ world. 


	53. Bounty

Timothy Pebble was a ghost. Everything about him, from where he lived to what he did for a living, was designed to leave the lightest trace possible. A ghost writer by trade, Pebble had come up with a grand plan for himself after ghost writing several mystery novels and realizing that he could plan the perfect crime. He had started out small, offering suggestions to a couple of gang-bangers he overheard on the bus, with the promise of a cut of the profits if his suggestions panned out. They had, but of course the bangers didn’t want to hand over Pebble’s cut. He had realized he needed to make a name and reputation for himself that would make people think twice about betraying him. And so, he had become Ghost. **_*1*_**

He had since amassed a fortune but remained hidden beneath the surface of society by continuing to live in the small apartment that he could just barely afford on his salary as a ghost writer. So many people, when they gained money from illicit sources, insisted upon living beyond the means they were meant to have, and that was how they ended up being caught. Pebble had never been caught, except for once. They had called themselves Tempest, and they had initially forced him to use some of his ill-gotten gains to provide funding for the S.C.P.D. But later, they had changed their tune, as all criminal syndicates did, and instead allowed him to operate at his will in the Glades, so long as he restricted his operations to criminals who hailed from there and provided them with a cut of his own profits. A small price to pay to remain free.

When Timothy Pebble returned to his apartment from getting groceries, he expected his night would be the same as it always was. But instead, he found himself pinned to the wall, trussed up in cords that bound him tightly, with the city’s resident vigilante staring at him coldly. “Timothy Pebble, you have failed this city,” Green Arrow said. “How many people have died in the crimes that you’ve helped orchestrate? How many children have been left orphans, how many have lost their homes or livelihoods because of your actions?”

“You got the wrong guy, vigilante,” Pebble said breezily. “I’m just a ghost writer. Look at my place; do I look like I’m living high?”

“You’re a smarter-than-average thug, but you’re still just a thug,” Green Arrow said. “You have twenty-four hours to transfer twenty million dollars into Starling City Liberty Trust account 1141. If you don’t, I’ll be back, and I’ll take it all.” Green Arrow turned and headed for the window.

“Aren’t you going to cut me down?” Pebble asked loudly. Green Arrow didn’t answer, just fired an arrow upward and was hauled away moments later. Pebble was uncomfortably aware of the pressure building in his groin and the itch on his nose. _Goddamned vigilante,_ he snarled in his mind.

**_*DC*_ **

Green Arrow was doing a patrol following his confrontation with Pebble, this one in the Eastern Glades, when he heard a shout for help. Diverting his course, Green Arrow came to a stop on a rooftop overlooking Mericle Plaza. A pair of young women were surrounded by a bunch of thugs wielding bats, tire irons, and even a couple of machetes. There were at least fifteen thugs that Green Arrow could see. A bit of overkill for a couple of women, unless they were expecting him to show up. Which meant either they had prepared in case he was in the area… or this was a trap. But if it weren’t the latter, he couldn’t leave those women down there to their fate. Green Arrow decided to use the distance to his advantage and fired off bolo arrow after bolo arrow, catching the thugs in their backs or chests and wrapping them up. Soon, all fifteen were tied up and shouting profanities. Green Arrow waved at the women, who waved back uncertainly, and turned, heading off in another direction.

Green Arrow was beginning to circle back when his comms opened up. “ **G.A., your student is here, says he’s got intel about something going down you’re gonna wanna hear about,** ” Oversight said.

“Understood, on my way back now,” Green Arrow replied. He made his way back towards the soon-to-be-open flower shop, leaping between buildings, but heard another cry for help as he was closing in on his destination. He turned in the direction the cry came from and found another young family, this one with two parents and one young boy, surrounded by ten thugs. In fact, Green Arrow was sure it was the same ten thugs. Why hadn’t the S.C.P.D. picked these bastards up? Green Arrow fired a zipline arrow (he was fresh out of bolo arrows after the incident at Mericle Plaza) and ziplined down to drop in front of the family, as he had done before. “I’m fairly sure I took care of you idiots last time,” Green Arrow said calmly. “How the hell did you get out?”

“Funny thing about the S.C.P.D.,” the gang leader said smugly. “They don’t really take kindly to being told how to do their job or someone doing it for them. They’ve started letting those of us you catch go with a slap on the wrist.”

“I see,” Green Arrow said softly. “Then I guess I’ll just have to beat you down so you can’t get back up again.”

“Any beatdown you put on us is gonna happen to that nice little family behind you, and a hundred families like theirs,” the gang leader said. “See, my boys and I, we’re here to collect the bounty on your head.”

“That’s the second time you’ve mentioned a bounty,” Green Arrow said.

“Oh, the bounty we mentioned last time was the one the cops put out on you,” the gang leader said. “That’s nothing compared to the underground bounty that just went out last night. You’re worth a cool million, dead, two mil alive.”

“I see,” Green Arrow said, trying to calculate what he needed to do to get himself and the family out of this. He had less than ten arrows left, two of which were zipline arrows and another which was a grappling arrow. Of the remaining arrows, three were explosive arrows, and three were sleeping gas arrows. Then there were the five taser bolts mounted on the flechette around his left forearm. These were not good odds, much like the ones he had faced the night that Sara returned, but this time there was little chance that the Canary would come out of nowhere and help him out. This time, he needed to figure a way out of this for himself and the family that were depending on his protection. Whatever happened, Green Arrow knew one thing: he couldn’t do this the hero’s way. “So, what now, then?”

“You are going to stand there and let us end you,” the gang leader said. “If you don’t, the boy dies first.” He gestured Green Arrow forward as he stepped back. “Shall we?” Green Arrow turned, looked at the fear in the family’s eyes, and knew he would have to take some hits, get these bastards comfortable before he could strike. He threw his bow to the side, stepping forward.

The first blow came from behind, striking against the back of his knee joint. Blinding pain shot up his leg and he was driven to one knee. A bat came in from the side and struck him in the stomach, leaving him wheezing, then another struck him in the small of his back, driving him forward onto the ground. Green Arrow curled on himself, as much to protect himself as to keep an eye on the young family as blows rained down on him. He felt more than a couple of ribs break under impacts from a crowbar, but his ploy had worked. There was only one man guarding the family. Green Arrow slipped a taser bolt into his hand, then jumped to his feet, throwing the bolt straight and true. As it struck, the man jerked in place and fell to the ground. “ _Run!_ ” Green Arrow barked, and the family had no need for further encouragement. The father scooped his child up in his arms and ran away. **_*2*_**

With the family on their way out of danger, Green Arrow could act. He quickly grabbed the bat swinging towards his head and wrenched it from the grip of its wielder before revering the attack, giving a full-powered swing that impacted the side of the man’s head. The man went down like a rock, and Green Arrow snatched up his bow before using a combination of bat, bow, and his League training to debilitate and cripple the men who had threatened an innocent family to try and get to him for a one million dollar bounty, a bounty he was sure had its source in Malcolm Merlyn.

Soon, they were all groaning in pain except for the gang leader, who had thrown his own crowbar away and raised his hands in surrender. “You threatened innocent lives for _money_ ,” Green Arrow growled. “You don’t get to just _walk away_.” Green Arrow delivered a strike with the bat, bringing it down on the side of the man’s knee. A loud _pop_ could be heard as the gang leader’s knee dislocated under the pressure. He screamed as he collapsed. Green Arrow drove the bat into the man’s chest one, two, three times at full strength, leaving him wheezing, before finishing it off with a strike to the temple with his bow.

Green Arrow grimaced and dropped the bat before beginning to limp towards where he could fire a zipline arrow. Somehow, he figured he knew what Roy had to tell him about.

**_*DC*_ **

Oliver limped out of the elevator and into the Quiver to find Henry and Roy waiting for him. Both of their eyes widened at the sight of his battered form. “That thing you gotta tell me have anything to do with an underground bounty?” Oliver grunted at Roy, who nodded as he moved to help Oliver, who waved his help away. He had taken worse hits and made it through. “Thanks for coming with that news as quick as you could.”

“Looks like you found it out on your own,” Roy said, accepting that his teacher didn’t want his help. He understood; Oliver was someone who handled this sort of thing on his own.

“Had a suspicious gathering in Mericle Plaza, fifteen thugs armed with bats, tire irons, and machetes,” Oliver said. “Took them out with all my bolo arrows. Then on my way back in ran into a gang of thugs for the second time. Seems the S.C.P.D. is letting some of these people off with a slap on the wrist because I’m the one catching them. I left them broken and crippled this time as a way to remember not to do this again.”

“So, that solves one group, but that other group will probably be back at it, and so will every other group looking to score a million dollars. Some might even try to take you alive for the two million reward,” Roy said.

“This is gonna make things seriously hard, Oliver,” Henry said. “You have only so many arrows, and if every gang tries the same thing…”

“I don’t think they will after word of this gets out,” Oliver said grimly. “But that just means they’ll find a different approach.” He sighed. “According to the gang leader I took care of tonight, there’s two bounties. The one they were after tonight, and one from the cops. Something tells me the cop one isn’t an official bounty, either. Nudocerdo wants me scrubbed out because I threaten his power.”

“So, what’ll you do?” Roy asked.

“Right now? Wrap my ribs,” Oliver said, wincing as he shrugged out of the top half of his uniform, and both Roy and Henry flinched at the ugly bruise on Oliver’s right side. Oliver headed for the medical area, still limping. Roy and Henry looked at each other, both worried. There was only so much punishment the human body could take, even for a man as well-trained as Oliver Queen was.

**_*DC*_ **

Malcolm Merlyn’s eyebrows quirked up as a call came in on his private cell phone rather than his business one with a ‘Blocked’ heading. He answered it. “Malcolm Merlyn,” he said.

“A bounty?” Oliver Queen asked on the other end, and Malcolm’s lips curled into a smirk. “That’s a new low, even for a genocidal bastard like you, Malcolm.”

“The cunning warrior uses all methods at his disposal, Oliver, surely Ra’s taught you that,” Malcolm said, deciding to bait the hook and see if Oliver took it.

“Actually, it was Talia who trained me, but yes, I was taught that,” Oliver replied. “I guess we’ll see which of us learned our lessons the best, and who was the better teacher in the end. The father or the daughter.”

“Oh, Talia may be a great warrior in her own right, but she’s no match for her father,” Malcolm replied. “If she was, than she would be the Demon’s Head by now instead of him.”

“Perhaps,” Oliver said. “Or perhaps she simply no longer needs his approval now that she has her own League?”

“Touché,” Malcolm said. “Speaking of daughters, I’d be remiss if I didn’t pass along my daughter’s best wishes to you. I’m sure she would want me to. Tommy’s as well. They’re both concerned about you, you know, and your downward spiral into your psychosis.”

“Which we both know is nothing of the sort, and by the end of this, Malcolm, so will they,” Oliver promised.

“Perhaps,” Malcolm said calmly. “Now, I appreciate the call, Oliver, but unlike you, I’m not a fugitive and I still have a Fortune 500 company to run. Good day.” Malcolm hung up the phone, chuckling. It was _refreshing_ , being able to be honest with someone, even if it was his enemy. In the end, though, Oliver would lie broken at his feet, and the Glades would fall soon after. It was inevitable, because Oliver had proven throughout his crusade that he lacked the conviction to see it through to the end. He killed only in extreme circumstances, and one-on-one battles had not once been among those circumstances.

**_*DC*_ **

Lance Fowler had been a worker at the Queen steel factory before it closed down and had since taken to petty crime in the Glades to make ends meet. He robbed people, bodegas, the occasional bank when he put together a crew that was worth a damn. But even with everything he did, he was barely making ends meet. So, when he heard about the underground bounty on Oliver Queen/Green Arrow, he knew his day had finally come. He knew it would be easy to get a bunch of the guys from the steel factory together to go after Queen; all of them were looking to make the family that had hurt them hurt just as badly. But the real problem was getting Queen into a place of their choosing without him taking them out.

It was really simple, in the end, as far as Fowler was concerned. The only way to draw Queen out from wherever he was hiding was to take someone he cared about and make sure the news cycle caught it. That meant it had to be someone _important_ , and while Queen’s girlfriend was important to him, she wasn’t important enough that her kidnapping would be big news. But the little princess, Thea, on the other hand? Her being kidnapped would be major news. Queen would do _anything_ for his baby sister, Fowler was sure, even surrender to them and let them cash in on the live bounty. Afterward, of course, the little princess would be superfluous, and Fowler knew better than to leave witnesses who could identify him. He would have his fun with the girl and then put a bullet in her head, and with that, there would be no Queens left in the city or, indeed, in the world. That sounded like a very satisfying revenge on that bastard, Robert, who had promised them all that he wasn’t going to close the factory and move operations to China, and then turned around and did just that.

All they needed now was to find the right time to strike and take the little princess. When she was on her way to or from school seemed like the best bet. _Especially,_ Fowler thought with a lecherous smirk as a certain part of his anatomy twitched in anticipation, _because she’ll be in that cute little uniform when I do her._ It would take a few days to pin down the route the car she rode in took to Berlanti Preparatory, but once that was done… she was _his_.

**_*DC*_ **

Timothy Pebble was feeling cheerful as he entered his apartment. The Green Arrow was busy fighting off hordes of gang members looking to score a million or more dollars from the price on his head. The likelihood Green Arrow would pop up here, expecting Pebble to do as he demanded, was simply unlikely. So, when he found himself pinned to the wall again, cords wrapped tightly around him, he stared at Green Arrow in shock. “What the hell?” he demanded to know.

“What, you thought because I have a _bounty_ on me, that means you’re free and clear?” Green Arrow asked, his tone skeptical. “Sorry to disappoint you. Me, on the other hand? You disappoint me. I made myself clear. Twenty million or everything. You should’ve taken my offer. Now your victims will get everything.” Green Arrow went to where Pebble’s laptop was resting and opened it, powering it up.

“It’s password protected,” Pebble tried.

“I have something to break down whatever protection you’ve put up,” Green Arrow replied, plugging a thumb drive he pulled from his pouch into the laptop and then activating his comms. “Oversight?”

“ **Digging in now, G.A., shouldn’t take too long,** ” Oversight replied. Green Arrow turned, snagged an apple from the bowl on the kitchen counter, and started munching on it, staring at Pebble thoughtfully.

“What, stealing from me isn’t enough? You gotta eat my food, too?” Pebble asked acerbically.

“I worked up an appetite on the way over,” Green Arrow defended. “More than a few gangs were roaming about, and I couldn’t avoid all of them.” Pebble scoffed at this. Green Arrow shrugged, continuing to munch on the apple as the thumb drive beeped.

“ **We’re done, G.A.,** ” Oversight said.

“Good work,” Green Arrow said, unplugging the thumb drive. He gave Pebble a polite nod. “Thanks for your charitable contributions. The people who truly need aid appreciate your generosity.” Green Arrow headed for the window.

“You’re an arrogant ass, and one of these days, someone is gonna take you out!” Pebble shouted after him. Green Arrow, like the last time, ignored him as he fired a grappling arrow and was pulled up and away, leaving Pebble in the same position as last night. At least he didn’t have the _other_ issues from last night.

Damn it. His nose was itching.

**_*DC*_ **

Oliver returned to the Quiver, hanging his bow up and setting his empty quiver (he had run into trouble on the way back) beside the bow stand. He peeled his mask off his face and sighed. _I need to talk to her,_ he thought to himself. He went to where his encrypted cell phone was resting, picking it up. “Henry, what’s the situation like in Laurel’s apartment right now?”

Henry pulled up a feed from the camera on Laurel’s computer, checking in. “Looks like it’s just her and her sister, Oliver,” Henry said.

“Thank you,” Oliver said, gesturing for him to cut the feed before he selected the contact for Laurel’s phone and hit the call button. He held the flip phone to his ear, waiting.

“Ollie?” Laurel asked cautiously as she answered.

“Hey,” he said softly. “How are you?”

“I’m missing you,” Laurel admitted softly. “I’m busy at C.N.R.I., but when I get home, I keep expecting to see you waiting on the couch or in bed, and then I remember you’re out there on your own. How are _you_?”

“I’ve been better, and I’m missing you, as well,” Oliver said. “Merlyn put a bounty on me in the criminal underworld. One million dead, two million alive.” Laurel gasped on the other end. “Had a conversation with him about it. He told me the cunning warrior uses every tool at his disposal. So, in addition to the cops, I have to worry about every low-life in the city trying to cash in on this.”

“Oh, Ollie…” Laurel whispered. “I know this is important to you, but wouldn’t it be easier to approach the F.B.I. with all you know, cut a deal?”

“That wouldn’t keep the city safe from Ra’s al Ghul,” Oliver replied. “Even if I did that, the crime and corruption would remain. I have to keep the city safe, and the only way I can do that is as Green Arrow. I wish there were a simple solution, Laurel. I miss being with you.”

“Anything else I should know?” Laurel asked after a moment.

“No,” Oliver said. “I just- I needed to hear your voice. I know we can’t talk whenever we’d like, and it hurts to know that we’re separated like this. But I love you, Laurel, and I promise, I will find a way to make all of this work. Somehow…”

“I believe in you, Ollie,” Laurel said. “How was your Thanksgiving?”

“It was alright, Henry and I got a dinner from Denny’s,” Oliver said. “Yours?”

“Dad didn’t care for it too much since Mom, Sara, and I all said how thankful we are for everything you do,” Laurel said with a sad chuckle. “He looked like someone was pulling his tooth when he admitted that everything that he was thankful for was because of you. But he cautioned Sara about following you in your ‘madness’.”

“I’m sure Sara was pleased with such an admonition,” Oliver said dryly.

“She kept the peace because she was hoping to arrange a chance to remind Mom that she ignored our grandparents’ wishes and married Dad because she loved him,” Laurel said sadly. “She didn’t get the chance, and now Mom’s back in Central City. Sara really wants to bring the family back together.”

“Do you think it’s possible?” Oliver asked.

“I don’t know, Ollie,” Laurel admitted. “I want things to be back the way they were, but my parents… they said some pretty awful things to each other before the separation. I don’t know if there’s a way to come back from that.”

“I hope everything works out for you and your family, Laurel,” Oliver said. “I should go. I’m sure you have an early morning ahead of you.”

“I do,” Laurel said softly. “I love you, Ollie.”

“I love you, too,” Oliver replied before hanging up. He was sure he heard Laurel’s breath hitch before he did, like she was resisting the urge to cry. One of these days, they would be together again. It had to happen, somehow; he just didn’t know any way that it could because she was right, he would keep being Green Arrow even after any pardon that came his way. He also knew if he did, he would be an outlaw again, with no chance of a pardon incoming. How was he supposed to keep his promise to her _and_ safeguard his city from Ra’s al Ghul’s wrath once Tempest was broken and criminals were no longer restricted to the Glades?

**_*DC*_ **

Talia al Ghul finished listening the report her acolyte had on the latest news from the outside world and then dismissed them, standing and looking out the window of her chamber in her own monastery. Oliver Queen was now a man on the run, having been exposed by one of those he had let into his world, whom he had shown the darkness within to. He had all but thrown her teachings away, it seemed, believing he could be both Oliver Queen and the monster within, the monster the Russians called Kapushion. Of course, he wasn’t truly embracing the darkness, either, having chosen to take up the moniker ‘Green Arrow’ and fight so openly against crime and corruption in his city, using _trick arrows_ to capture and contain his enemies. He reminded her rather forcibly of her Beloved, though Bruce at least had the sensibility to fight from the shadows.

Not for the first time, Talia wondered what could have happened to change Oliver so drastically in the few months since she had left him in Russia to finish dealing with Kovar and then return home to begin his fight for Starling City’s soul. Because whatever it was, it had to have been dramatic. Nothing less would have caused such a drastic alteration of Oliver’s character and the near-complete abandonment of the teachings she had given to him, teachings he had clung to like a man desperately seeking salvation. It was as though he were no longer worried about the darkness within consuming those he cared about. He was not the shadow she had trained him to be, using her teachings to channel the darkness within. He was someone else, something else entirely. **_*3*_**

She would continue to wait and observe, she decided. She still had a new set of acolytes to train. Once that was done, perhaps it would be time to hunt Oliver down herself to find her answers. That, of course, was assuming that he didn’t get himself captured or killed by the authorities in the meantime.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter.
> 
> Chapter Notes:
> 
> *1* Timothy Pebble/Ghost is a minor Green Arrow enemy. I looked through a list of GA enemies for potential List candidates to fill out the time in between Tempest takedowns, and Pebble sprung out at me as being a perfect candidate for the List.
> 
> *2* I actually winced writing this sequence, imagining Oliver putting up with that in order to save innocent people. This was supposed to mirror, to a degree, the sequence in “The Flash” 2x09 where Weather Wizard and Trickster teamed up and Barry had to let them beat the crap out of him while his team found the bombs.
> 
> *3* Ah, poor Talia. She, like Anatoli, simply can’t grasp the changes Oliver has gone through because, to them, he’s changed so drastically from the man they knew only a few short weeks ago. But what will this disconnect lead to if it leads to anything? 


	54. Abducted Heiress

Thea Queen was still waking up as the Bentley pulled away from the Merlyn Manor the next morning, heading for Berlanti Preparatory. The coffee she had had certainly helped, but with wakefulness came the reminder that all was not right in her world. Her mother and the man she had believed was her father all her life were dead. Her stepfather was dead. One of her brothers was on the run from the police because her other brother had exposed him as the Green Arrow. The press were constantly hounding for a soundbyte from her about what she thought of Oliver’s heroics. That was the word many of them used, heroics, not vigilantism.

The truth was that Thea didn’t know _how_ she felt about Oliver. He had been in the news recently, dealing with gang violence in the Glades from the sounds of it. He was so _different_ from the brother she remembered. Ollie had been gentle, kind, and a bit of a goof. _Oliver_ was violent, focused entirely upon his desire to save the city from crime and corruption to the exception of even his relationships, and he was always serious. The only constant between the two versions of her brother was that he was absolutely smitten with Laurel Lance, who supported him in his vigilantism. Thea supposed she was just as guilty of doing that when she first found out; she didn’t know how she felt anymore. For a while, she had been completely against it, but now that there was no way of putting the genie back in the bottle, which did she prefer? Oliver free and racing across the rooftops of Starling City, righting every wrong that he could, or Oliver imprisoned and potentially being put in with the very same people he had put away, like those Russians who kidnapped Laurel from Metropolis?

Something slammed into the side of the Bentley, _hard_ , and Thea was thrown hard against the seat, the ceiling, and then the seat again as the car rolled over and over from the impact, eventually landing on its roof. Thea laid dazed and barely conscious as the door was pulled open. Rough hands grabbed her under the arms and pulled her from the wrecked Bentley, a black bag descending over her head. Rough rope cut into her wrists as they were bound, then her elbows. She felt similar bindings being placed around her ankles and knees before she was thrown into the trunk of a car and heard the lid slam down hard. Then she blacked out completely, blood trickling down her forehead from a cut she had received in the crash. **_*1*_**

**_*DC*_ **

Oliver Queen was just waking up for the day. He had spent a good part of the night in and out of the Quiver, restocking its namesake as needed, and dealing with roaming gangs in the Glades who threatened civilians in an effort to draw Green Arrow out of hiding. Oliver had had to intervene up close and personal a few times, and his torso was a mass of bruises from the blows from bats and crowbars being wielded by gang members eager to cash in on the $1,000,000 prize that came with his dead body. None were brave enough to try and take him alive in order to claim the greater prize of $2,000,000. They had seen what he was capable of during the mob war thanks to the proliferation of cell phone footage that had made its way to YouTube. They would rather the lesser prize of $1,000,000 than the ‘prize’ of being left a broken mess. But the message was finally getting out: don’t threaten innocents to draw out Green Arrow, because you’ll end up crippled for your troubles. Oliver despised gangland tactics like that, as it reminded him of his time in the Bratva, but sometimes the only message these thugs understood was _fear_ , and if they weren’t going to respect him, they _were_ going to fear him.

Oliver noted that Henry was still out of it in the cot nearby, and made his way to the kitchen, where he set about brewing a pot of coffee. It was nearly two p.m., unsurprising since he had barely gotten to sleep around six a.m. While the coffee brewed, Oliver booted up the computers and checked the news feeds for anything of interest. It was perhaps a good thing that he had yet to pour his ‘morning’ cup of coffee, because the first thing that sprang up in the feed was a video titled ‘Queen-Merlyn Heiress Kidnapped!’. Oliver clicked on the video, his heart pounding in his chest. Instantly, Susan Williams appeared on the screen. “Early this morning, Thea Queen, the sister of Oliver Queen, the Green Arrow, and recently-revealed daughter of Malcolm Merlyn and Moira Queen from a brief affair between the two, was kidnapped while on her way to school. Channel 52 News received a message from the kidnappers, which we will play for you. I warn you now, this video contains troubling images.”

Oliver sat stiffly as the shaky view of a phone camera appeared on the screen. Thea was tied to a chair in the center of a dark room, a gag in her mouth and her face red, tracks of mascara running down her cheeks. A man in a ski mask appeared in the camera’s view with her. “This is a message for Oliver Queen,” the man said. “You are going to turn yourself over to us so we can collect the bounty on your head, or we have fun with your little sister. You have until midnight tonight to come to the place your family failed us.” The man reached down and gripped the sides of Thea’s jaw, tilting her head from side to side. “Personally, I’m looking forward to having some fun with the princess, so take your time.” The video cut off there and was replaced with Susan Williams again.

“There you have it,” Susan said. “Thea Queen has been abducted in an effort to force her brother out of hiding, and if we take what is said in the video at face value, there appears to be a bounty of some sort in the criminal underworld on Oliver Queen’s head. No doubt this is the reason for the recent upswing in gang violence and Green Arrow’s near-constant presence in fighting gangs throughout the Glades the past few days. We can only hope that Thea Queen can be found, by the authorities or by her brother, before these men can go through with their implied threats towards Miss Queen.”

Oliver scrolled the video back to the shot of Thea and her kidnappers, taking in the surroundings and every detail he could. There had to be at least two kidnappers: one to make the video, the other to send the message. But kidnapping anyone would require a crew, so there was probably 4-6 kidnappers in all. The location, of course, was rather easy to figure out. There was only one place in the city where the Queens had failed people who would want revenge in this way. The steel factory. But these weren’t Russian thugs he was dealing with this time; these were probably men who had worked at the factory, who would know it as well as he did, and they would take it out on his sister if he took his time taking them down. He would need to be able to move fast. Bolo arrows were out, so were sleeping gas arrows. The former could be cut loose from, the latter required a precision strike, impossible with so many targets. Luckily, Oliver had been working on a new set of arrows with a different purpose. Injection arrows filled with a dose of tetrodotoxin would take the men down quick and quiet, and then Thea would be safe.

It looked like Green Arrow was going to have to make another daytime appearance, though this time he would be sticking to the rooftops to keep his approach hidden from those who had his sister.

**_*DC*_ **

Thea Queen shuddered as the bastard who had been eyeing her up the entire time that she had been here gave her another once over. Something told her that raping her was something the man intended to do whether Ollie showed up or not. He had run his hands over her more than once, as well, and he wasn’t the only one. All of them, really, seemed interested in getting their revenge on the Queens any way that they could, including through her. Thea would fully admit that she was scared, and her mind was blank from that fear. She didn’t see any way out of this, no matter how much of a bad-ass Oliver was. There were six of them, and all of them had assault rifles. Two were on the move constantly, circling the room they were holding her in. The other four were stationed directly ahead of her, waiting for her brother to walk through the front door, or so it seemed. Every so often, one of these guys would come back to where she was tied and grope her. Her breasts were probably bruised from how often they had fondled them through her school blouse.

“Uh, excuse me?” a voice called from the front, and Thea’s eyes widened. That was Tommy’s voice! Sure enough, her oldest brother (Tommy had been born a few months earlier than Ollie) arrived, clad in a business suit and wielding a briefcase. The men in front of Thea automatically aimed their weapons. Tommy held up his hands non-threateningly. “Not here to cause trouble for you. But you should know the cops are already on their way here. It wasn’t that hard to figure out where you were holed up, which means Oliver is probably already on his way, too. If you think Oliver is going to hand himself over to you because you have Thea, you’re wrong. He doesn’t care about her enough to do that. He wouldn’t even stop what he’s doing when she asked and refused to leave the city to find her. I was the one who had to do that.”

“There a point to all this drivel, Merlyn?” the bastard who kept eyeing her up even when he wasn’t groping her demanded.

“Just that you’re not gonna get what you want from Oliver,” Tommy replied. “But it’s obvious you want money. I have five million in non-traceable bills in this briefcase. You let Thea and I walk out of here, unharmed, and it’s all yours.”

“Five mil?” one of the other men echoed. Tommy nodded shortly. The man turned to look at the apparent leader of the crew. “That’s more than double what the bounty is, and all we gotta do is let them walk. Sounds like a deal to me, especially because I don’t wanna know what Green Arrow is gonna do if he doesn’t turn himself over to us.”

“This is about more than just the bounty, you idiot,” the boss sneered. “This is about getting revenge on the Queen family for shutting this place down and fucking us over! Or have you forgotten that? You gonna let another billionaire asshole fuck you over? He said it himself. Cops are already on the way. Who do you think _called_ them? He did! They might be waiting outside and ready to rush in as soon as Merlyn and the girl leave!” The boss pointed his weapon at Merlyn. “Get your ass over by the girl, hands up the entire way. Leave the briefcase right there. If it actually has the money in it, then you’ve at least bought _your_ life.”

Tommy slowly placed the briefcase on the ground and gingerly made his way to a spot beside Thea, going to his knees at a gesture from the men. “Sorry, Speedy,” he whispered to Thea. She would’ve told him it was all right if she could speak, but the gag that was still in her mouth prevented anything of the sort.

**_*DC*_ **

Above the kidnappers, Thea, and Tommy, the Green Arrow had watched the whole scene unfold. He had hoped that the men would take the offer Tommy had given them; as the one man had said, that was more than double the price on Green Arrow’s head. But it appeared the leader of the group was intent on getting his revenge on the Queen family, and the rest were your typical lackeys. A pity, for them at any rate. They could have walked away, left town, and lived the high life for a bit. But they had chosen the path of pain. Because Green Arrow had had a realization while stocking his quiver; he had had to make extreme examples out of the gangs who were threatening innocent lives. If he didn’t do the same with these men, people would think snatching up Thea or Laurel would be the way to go because he wasn’t as willing to maim and cripple. He had to be as ruthless with these men as he was with those who threatened the innocent in the Glades to draw him out.

He had been here for ten minutes already, getting an idea of the discipline these men had, which wasn’t much, and whether there was a pattern to their movements. They were pretty simple. They only had the two wandering guards, and the remaining four kept themselves grouped together. A foolish mistake, but then, one of the few things that had never been revealed from cell phone footage and the like was that he tended to hit these groupings with explosive arrows. Green Arrow nocked one such arrow now, taking aim, and firing. The arrow landed directly behind the group of four and went off a moment later, sending them sprawling with second- and third-degree burns. Green Arrow wasted no time, nocking and firing two lethal arrows at the wandering guards, who had stopped in place in stunned disbelief. The arrows struck true in their hearts, dropping them like a stone.

Green Arrow dropped down from the rafters and landed in front of Tommy and Thea in a crouch. He drew and fired four bolo arrows at the moaning heaps that were the men caught in the blast from the explosive arrow, then turned, plucking a bolt from the flechette around his forearm and using it to cut Thea’s bonds, ignoring Tommy’s gaping expression at his new look. Thea pulled the gag down as soon as her hands were free and practically threw herself into her brother’s chest, arms wrapping around his torso tightly as she unleashed deep, shuddering sobs. “I’m so sorry, Ollie!” she wailed. “I was scared and hurting, and I needed somebody, anybody! I didn’t know what to do and thought-thought-”

“It’s alright, Speedy,” Green Arrow said, hugging her to him with one arm. “I wasn’t the best guardian. I knew that, and I made sure you got a guardian who would put you first.” He looked to his best friend. “Tommy.”

“Oliver,” Tommy said slowly, rising from his kneeling position. Oliver gently pushed Thea in his direction, and she went, hiccupping as Tommy wrapped his arms around her. “This is a little more damage than you typically do,” Tommy said, looking around.

“Thing about this bounty is I’m making sure those who want to try and get it aren’t stupid enough to try and put innocents or the people I care about in danger to draw me out,” Green Arrow replied, “and despite what you think, I still care about Thea. But there is more going on in this city than either of you know. You’ll see in the end; everyone will.” Green Arrow drew a grappling arrow, preparing to fire.

“They’ll find you, you know,” Tommy said, and Green Arrow paused, tilting his head in his best friend’s direction. “Wherever it is you’re hiding, the cops or the F.B.I. will find you and, if you’re not careful, they’ll kill you.”

“Maybe,” Green Arrow said after a moment. “But until that day comes, my responsibility is clear: protect the city.” Green Arrow fired the grappling arrow and was pulled up and away even as shouts announcing the arrival of the police filled the air.

**_*DC*_ **

Malcolm Merlyn arrived at the precinct where his son and daughter had been taken upon their rescue from the kidnappers who had taken Thea. He didn’t know what Tommy had been thinking, trying to cut a deal with this sort of riff-raff. They were scum of the Earth and would probably have taken the money, put bullets in both of Malcolm’s children, and then gone on to collect the bounty, which was held in escrow by an objective third party to hide Tempest’s involvement in the matter. They couldn’t have that name getting out in connection with any bounty on the Green Arrow, not with the F.B.I. still sniffing about.

Malcolm was met by Lieutenant Franklin Pike. “Mr. Merlyn, your son and daughter are fine, they’re in an interview room,” Pike told him comfortingly. Malcolm nodded shortly, diverting his course to follow Pike. They entered just as Thea was signing her statement. There was already one from Tommy being packed away by Lucas Hilton. Tommy gave his father a nod and a grimace, knowing Malcolm would have words for him about trying to cut a deal with ‘lowlifes’, while Thea barely registered the presence of her newly-discovered father, still feeling a little overwhelmed.

“What’s being done about the men responsible for this?” Malcolm asked into the silence.

Quentin Lance looked up. “Aside from what Oliver Queen did to them?” he asked sardonically. “They’re being charged with kidnapping and sexual assault of a minor. According to Thea’s statement, every last one of them groped her and made comments that implied that raping her was something they all wanted to do, no matter if her brother turned himself over to them.”

“I see,” Malcolm said softly. “And what precisely did Oliver do to these men?”

“Two of them are dead, arrows through the heart,” Lucas Hilton said. “The other four are hospitalized with second- and third-degree burns from one of Queen’s explosive arrows. The force of the explosion also broke their legs.”

_Impressive,_ Malcolm mused, thinking perhaps it was time to look into such arrows for his own arsenal. He was always looking for ways to improve it. Aloud, he said, “Well, I suppose I should be thankful that Oliver is still so protective of his sister.” Quentin grunted noncommittally as he and Hilton left the room. **_*2*_**

“I know what you’re gonna say, Dad,” Tommy said. “I should’ve just left it to the cops or even to Oliver. But, she’s my sister, too. I had to do something.”

“I’m not disappointed that you wanted to help Thea, Tommy,” Malcolm said. “You did what you thought was right and that’s what matters. The only thing that I’m disappointed in is that you didn’t ask me for help. I have contacts who could have handled this transaction, keeping you out of danger.”

“I guess I still have some things to learn about being a businessman, huh?” Tommy said ruefully.

“So did I when I was your age,” Malcolm said bracingly. “Now, since you two are finished here, let’s get you both home…”

**_*DC*_ **

Dinah Laurel Lance was on edge, worrying about Thea, when her phone rang. She double-checked to make sure it was her everyday phone, saw that it was her father calling, and slid the green bar upward, accepting the call. “Hey, Dad,” Laurel said. “Any news on Thea?”

“Yeah, she’s safe,” Quentin said. “Merlyn tried to buy off the guys who took her even though he told us where they were holed up and ended up a hostage himself for his trouble. Then Queen showed up, killed two of the kidnappers, and put the other four in the hospital with bad burns and broken legs from one of his explosive arrows. I’m only telling you this because I want you to remember that the man you still think of as your boyfriend is a murderer and a criminal, and he’s going down one day. Don’t let him drag you down with him.”

“Thanks for letting me know Thea’s okay, Dad,” Laurel said, and noticed Sara, who was standing in the corner, relax slightly. “Goodbye.”

“Bye, Laurel,” Quentin said distractedly, and Laurel hung up.

“So, was it the cops or Ollie?” Sara asked.

“Oliver,” Laurel replied. “He killed two of them and put the rest in the hospital with an explosive arrow.”

“Tame compared to what I would’ve done,” Sara said conversationally, and Laurel knew that this was true because Sara had spent the entire afternoon since the breaking news segment aired revealing Thea’s kidnapping and the video that accompanied it elucidating on what she would do to the kidnappers if she had the chance for even _thinking_ of hurting Thea in that way. In truth, Laurel _almost_ fell sorry for men like that, the Russians, and others who abused women in this city once Sara was fully-healed and decided to go out there herself. Something told her that people would fear the Canary as much as they did the Green Arrow. “Dad try to warn you off of still loving Ollie?” Sara added knowingly.

“Yes,” Laurel sighed. “I mean, I know logically that what he’s saying is true, and maybe if I hadn’t had some up close and personal experiences with the most dangerous people in the city I would be inclined to agree with Dad. But I’ve been fighting these bastards for almost three years now, Sara, and I’ve had more success in the past seven weeks with Oliver doing what he does than I had in two years of painstakingly building cases. The most successful case I had was putting Cyrus Vanch away.” Laurel leaned back in her chair. “It used to be that I held the law as sacred, the way Dad does,” Laurel said softly. “Sometimes, I miss the person I was before that night on the docks. Because I don’t know if who I am now is going to always be satisfied with letting Ollie, and maybe you, take all the risk while I reap the benefits. I’m not sure if the law is going to be enough for me…”

“Isn’t that why you practically begged for me to teach you?” Sara asked, taking the seat in front of her sister’s desk. “I’m not an idiot, Laurel. You deciding to suddenly learn three different styles of fighting isn’t just about self-defense. If it was, you’d take it one at a time, and you’d be taking it slow.”

“Am I that transparent?” Laurel asked self-consciously.

“Only to someone whose already been there,” Sara said. “One of the reasons I held off was because I didn’t know if I wanted you in this life the way Ollie and I are. You’re a good person, Laurel. You have a light inside of you, and for a while, I thought Ollie and I had nothing but darkness and that that darkness would smother out your light if I trained you. But I’ve been watching Ollie. He has a light inside of him, too, something I didn’t expect to see after finding out who trained him. I think you helped harness that light for him, and I think he can do the same to you. So, I’m not afraid to teach you as much as I was, because I know you won’t lose who you are.” **_*3*_**

Laurel swallowed the lump in her throat. “Thanks, Sara,” she whispered.

“Anytime,” Sara chirped cheerfully, once more the image of the blonde sorority sister. Laurel shook her head at her sister’s ability to move from serious and thoughtful to ‘airhead’ in a matter of seconds before focusing back on her current case.

**_*DC*_ **

Councilman Gregory Kullens was about to take a sip of the Merlot he had poured himself when the glass was shattered by an arrow, which embedded itself in the wall. Kullens stared at the arrow in disbelief, then turned to face the intruder. Green Arrow already had another arrow nocked and pointed at Kullens. “Gregory Kullens,” Green Arrow said, “you have _failed_ this city!”

“I’m on the city council, Mr. Queen!” Kullens sputtered. “You can’t just threaten me!”

“So was Emily Pollard,” Green Arrow replied smugly, “and that didn’t stop me from taking _her_ down. Do you think your position affords you some immunity? It doesn’t, Kullens. No one is immune from _me_.”

“What do you want?” Kullens demanded to know.

“You are going to resign from your position and donate your ill-gotten gains to the Arms Open charity,” Green Arrow replied. “You’re going to admit to receiving kickbacks from the companies in this city, admit to your corruption, or I’ll expose it myself.”

“You realize that some of those kickbacks comes from Queen Consolidated, don’t you?” Kullens sneered. “Something that was happening even when _you_ ran things.”

“Something I was unaware of, but should have been,” Green Arrow agreed, surprising Kullens. “I consider bringing you down as much a penance as getting rid of another servo of Tempest’s machine.” Kullens felt a thrill of fear go through him at those words. “You didn’t think Pollard was just a casualty of her own corruption, did you, Kullens? I know who the members of Tempest are, and I am bringing you down, one-by-one, until there are none left but the master puppeteer himself. You have a chance to get out in front of this. I suggest you take it.”

“How?” Kullens asked.

“Make a deal with Agent Trimble, give him everything he needs to bring Tempest to a grinding halt,” Green Arrow replied. “You can all but guarantee immunity if you identify Tempest’s leader. We both know who that is. Consider your future carefully, Councilman, before you don’t have one.” Green Arrow departed, leaving a frightened if contemplative Gregory Kullens behind him. **_*4*_**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter.
> 
> Chapter Notes:
> 
> *1* Laurel’s been kidnapped so much in this story already, I decided it was time for Thea to have some damsel in distress time, maybe kickstart some realizations for her.
> 
> *2* In Season 1 of “Arrow”, Merlyn appears to have no trick arrows in his arsenal, each one of them being your basic lethal arrows. In 2x22, he has a streamlined explosive arrow of his own that he uses against that Mirakuru soldier to save Thea. My head-canon is he acknowledged the usefulness of some of Oliver’s trick arrows and made adjustments to his own arsenal.
> 
> *3* This segment was kind of a nod to the fact that at the end of Season 2, Sara indicates Laurel is the one who Oliver needs to harness the light inside of him, which Marc Guggenheim completely ignored and retconned with the Season 3 repiloting.
> 
> *4* Kullens strikes me as a bit of a weasel in his appearances, and he does what is best for him. So, he might well take Oliver up on his offer. Whether that leads to anything? That’s another matter entirely, isn’t it?


	55. Spreading Her Wings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This chapter contains a confrontation years in the making.

Less than twenty-four hours after Oliver’s visit to Councilman Kullens, the good councilman announced his resignation and admitted to corruption, donating his ill-gotten gains to the charity Oliver had specified before making this admittance. Oliver watched this from the Quiver with a satisfied expression on his face. The former councilman ignored questions as to whether he had received a visit from Green Arrow that had precipitated this confession, though Oliver knew the press would run with the (admittedly true) assertion that the councilman must’ve received a visit from the Green Arrow. **_*1*_**

“So, that’s two members of Tempest down, Oliver,” Henry Fyff observed from his own seat watching the councilman be taken away in handcuffs by the S.C.P.D. “Think he’ll turn on Merlyn?”

“No,” Oliver said after a moment. “It’s one thing to make himself useless to Tempest; it’s another to betray them. Kullens knows how Merlyn awards betrayal thanks to my father. It’s why Pollard hasn’t tried to cut a deal with Trimble despite having had ample opportunity to do so. Even my mother chose to end her own life rather than be questioned in case it exposed Tempest. Merlyn has managed to instill silence with an iron fist, and it will take them being more afraid of me than Merlyn to make them betray him. And as far as Tempest is concerned, I’ve proven my resolve isn’t the same as Merlyn’s. I won’t kill them if they don’t comply with my demands, while he’ll kill them if he even _suspects_ them of betrayal.”

“How’s that gonna play out when you go for him, then?” Henry asked. Oliver didn’t answer because he was still conflicted. He had changed so much about the future already, the aid that Merlyn had given him in the years to come, selfishly-driven as it may have been, might not even be something he had to be concerned about any longer. It was unlikely Talia would train Adrian to be Prometheus, and thus there would be no showdown on Lian Yu, no Merlyn sacrificing himself for Thea, which was the only real reason to keep him alive. But he was a known quantity, an enemy that Oliver knew how to deal with. Who knew what, or who, would take Merlyn’s place in the grand scheme of things. Sara had once told him the greatest problem that the Legends faced was the fact that time itself fought against them. For all of the changes he was making, there were things that were happening that had happened at one point or another during his years as a vigilante, which implied Sara had been telling the truth.

Oliver finally spoke. “I don’t know what will happen when I confront Merlyn,” Oliver said. “On the one hand, depending on how it plays out, it may be the only way to prove the existence of Tempest and his plans for the Glades, which would see Waller pushing for a pardon for me, or so I would assume since it would give her clearance to form Task Force X. But on the other, I know how dangerous he is, how manipulative and cruel he could be. I _should_ kill him, if only to keep him from digging his claws too deeply into Tommy and Thea.”

“Tough decision,” Henry said after a moment. “So, what do we do now that Kullens has capitulated?”

“For tonight, just another patrol of the Glades, make sure none of the gangs get uppity again,” Oliver replied. “Merlyn is sure to make another move in retaliation. Keep an eye on Laurel and Thea for me, will you?”

“I will,” Henry promised.

**_*DC*_ **

Malcolm was secluded in his ‘panic room’ at Merlyn Global, since it wouldn’t be good for his public image to be seen seething at the most recent triumph of Green Arrow. Oh, yes, there was little doubt in his mind that the reporters were correct, and that Green Arrow had visited Kullens and precipitated his retirement and admitting to corruption. Pollard could have simply been a target of opportunity; a result of Oliver having discovered her connection to Midas or Claybourne and deciding to take out the biggest fish. But now the second member of Tempest who sat on the City Council had been taken out of play, and there was no doubt in Malcolm’s mind now. Oliver knew who they were, and he was taking them out, one-by-one, all while masking it by going after the criminal and corrupt from the List. But Malcolm could see what Oliver was doing, and it angered him because he could do _nothing_ without raising more suspicion about Tempest.

His agents had continued to follow Samantha Clayton and learned her and her son’s schedules. They now knew the perfect opportunities to abduct both if the time ever came to force Oliver’s hand. Sara Lance was due to start her new job selling flowers tomorrow, which would leave her beloved sister vulnerable to Malcolm’s machinations if that time ever came as well. And Thea was, of course, in his grasp at all times.

But something had to be done about this. Oliver could not continue to target Malcolm’s allies with impunity. He had to be punished somehow. Malcolm’s mind cast back to the night of the dinner party and his initial plans to deal with one half of the ‘power couple’ that he could see forming. Perhaps now was the time to bring that plan back into play. The Huntsman had done a good job on Felicity Smoak, after all; it had just been poor timing. This time, there was nothing Laurel Lance was doing that could jeopardize the plans of Tempest, so however long it took the Huntsman to take Laurel and process her, it didn’t matter. But Malcolm would make a special request of the Huntsman in this case. He wanted Oliver to suffer, and that meant making the woman he loved suffer, too. He would ask the Huntsman to record the processing, and to do it while Laurel was still alive. The recording would then eventually find its way to Oliver, breaking the younger archer.

Malcolm smiled coldly as he picked up his encrypted cell phone to make the call.

**_*DC*_ **

Hadrian Wolcott smiled as he examined everything that he had dug up on Dinah Laurel Lance. The woman had been through quite the ringer in the past seven and a half weeks, which had probably made her paranoid. She lived with her sister, who had been shadowing her for most of the time since her boyfriend was exposed as Green Arrow, but now the sister was opening a flower shop. If Hadrian were honest, if he had to choose between the two sisters, he would pick the younger one. She was meatier than her slender lawyer of a sister, who was at least fit for a woman of her age. He supposed that was something he should be thankful for, at least. Laurel Lance was not going to be nearly as unappetizing as Felicity Smoak had been.

Of course, there were the special requests from the client to consider. He wanted Miss Lance processed while she was still alive, and for it to be recorded, which meant Hadrian needed to source some equipment, including a voice modulator. He couldn’t have anyone figuring out he was British from his voice after all. Then all they would have to do is find out how many British people there had been in Starling City during the time period between Smoak’s death and Lance’s. He would also need an appropriate mask, a camera, and proper restraints to hold Lance still (or as still as a squealing long-pig could be) while he did his work.

With her sister no longer playing guard dog and working on the other side of the Glades, Lance would be most vulnerable when she was working late at C.N.R.I. She was the first to arrive in the morning and the last to leave at night. Perfectly, deliciously vulnerable. **_*2*_**

**_*DC*_ **

Oliver Queen finished his exercise routine and headed for the computer consoles. “What have we got on Wilhelmina Hollinger, Henry?” he asked. **_*3*_**

“Well, there’s your obvious stuff,” Henry said. “Society lady, head of one of those status groups tracking how long someone’s bloodline has been in Starling City. Her family’s been in Starling for five generations, so she thinks she’s pretty much royalty.” Henry glanced at Oliver. “From the sounds of it, yours is the only family that rivals hers. Anyways, she’s also been connected to _every_ damned human trafficking group you’ve taken down.” Oliver had recently taken out a third human trafficking ring that Roy had put him onto. “She’s one nasty piece of work.”

“In other words, the perfect recruit for Tempest,” Oliver said. “By now, Malcolm has to know I’m targeting them and alerted the others. She’ll be ready for a visit. This one’s gonna be a little more complicated.”

“Yeah, more than likely, boss,” Henry said. Oliver sighed. He still hadn’t quite cured Henry of calling him ‘boss’ and ‘G.A.’ all the time.

**_*DC*_ **

Dinah Laurel Lance smiled at Joanna as she waved at her through the glass doors of her office, indicating that she was leaving for the night. Laurel waved at Joanna in return before refocusing on the sheaf of paperwork resting on the desk in front of her. When she wasn’t politicking and working her own cases, she was doing the paperwork that kept C.N.R.I. running. She had tallied and accounted all of the donations from the charity gala Oliver had thrown for her and C.N.R.I., and depending on how much money they expended on resources such as private investigators and the like, not to mention monthly salaries for everyone who worked here, C.N.R.I. was solid for at least five years, and Laurel somehow got the impression that if Oliver got his name cleared he intended to make that little gala a yearly thing. It would be just like him to do that.

Laurel worked diligently on the paperwork for another thirty minutes, ignoring the outside world in her little office, and eventually finished her work. She sighed contentedly as she filed it away in her desk and picked up her purse. It was time to head out; she would swing by her favorite Chinese place and grab some takeout for her and Sara, since neither of them could cook worth a damn. Laurel made her way out of the office, slowing as she took in the darkened room. She could’ve sworn that the light was still on when Joanna left. Maybe she had turned it off on her way out and Laurel had just been too focused on her work to notice? That was _probably_ it, but Laurel’s paranoia had new heights after the incident in Metropolis, and she pulled out her canister of pepper spray, ready just in case. “If someone’s there, know that I can handle myself!” she said as bravely as she could. She swallowed when she heard a dark chuckle emanate from the shadows. She wasn’t alone. “I’m going to get out of here, and if you think about touching me, you’ll get an arrow put in you. My boyfriend doesn’t like it when people target me.”

“ **Your boyfriend is why you’re being targeted, little bird,** ” came a modulated voice from her left. She swung around, raising the can of pepper spray, but two hands came up and disarmed her before she could send the pepper spray into the bastard’s face. A man dressed all in black leather (at least, she _thought_ it was leather), including a leather facemask, came from the shadows and delivered a punch to her gut. Laurel backed away, swinging her purse wildly at the intruder, who laughed as he grabbed her purse and flung it behind him. “ **I love it when they fight back. Breaking their spirit is as fun as breaking their bones.** ”

“You’re not going to break me,” Laurel said determinedly. “You’re going to prison.” She took up a boxer’s stance, just like Ted had taught her. The intruder took up a stance that seemed similar, but not quite the same, to one of the styles Laurel had seen Sara practicing as she pushed herself to get back into shape. The two circled one another for a moment, and then the man moved forward, punching forward. Laurel grabbed his wrist and twisted it around behind her, throwing the man off-balance. As he stumbled forward, she delivered a couple of blows to his kidney, earning a sharp hiss of pain from him. Laurel grinned; she was finally getting better at this.

“ **You are better than the Smoak woman,** ” the intruder said. “ **She was nothing but a sobbing mess before I cut her throat.** ”

Laurel stilled at that. She remembered how Oliver had told her about what Felicity Smoak had been doing for him and why she had ended up being killed, along with what he had told her he had dug up about the killer. “You’re the Huntsman?” she asked warily.

“ **I am indeed, little bird,** ” the Huntsman replied, giving her a vicious grin, and she felt her stomach turn unpleasantly as she noticed that his teeth ended in sharp points, as if he had filed them into fangs.

“Why call me that?” Laurel asked, continuing to circle him and keep her defenses up, in case he was trying to throw her off-balance before striking.

“ **You are young, fit, and based on what I’ve seen of your fighting skills, you are quick to dodge, like a bird dodging away from a predator,** ” the Huntsman replied. “ **Besides, there’s nothing like a properly-seasoned bird.** ”

“You’re not gonna be eating me, you sick son-of-a-bitch,” Laurel said through gritted teeth. She shot her leg forward in a frontal kick, catching the Huntsman in the stomach. She closed the distance, lashing out with a right hook and then a straight punch with her left fist, catching the Huntsman in the mouth. This, it turned out, was a mistake. She yelped in pain as the Huntsman bit down on the side of her hand and made a jerking motion with his head. Blinding pain exploded in her left hand as the Huntsman’s sharp teeth separated a small strip of flesh from her hand. He kicked her in the stomach and pushed her to the ground, then lifted his head. She could hear him _chewing_ , and the audible _gulp_ of him swallowing.

“ **Just as I suspected,** ” the Huntsman. “ **You are delicious, little bird. I am going to enjoy carving you up.** ”

Laurel, left hand still throbbing and blood pumping out of the wounds left from the Huntsman’s jagged teeth, clambered to her feet, refusing to be terrified. She was _done_ being a victim, she was _done_ being the woman everyone thought was going to be easy prey, she was _done_ being the fucking damsel in distress that her boyfriend and sister had to save! “Go fuck yourself, you sick bastard,” Laurel snarled. She launched herself forward, throwing a right cross, left cross, right hook, left hook, uppercut, and a straight punch from each side, driving the surprised Huntsman back. When she had an opening, she delivered a high kick to his chin, and he collapsed. Laurel wasn’t done, though, and she delivered kick after kick to the downed man, snarling, “ _I. AM. NOT. YOUR. PLAYTHING!_ ” Finally, she retreated, leaving the Huntsman unconscious on the ground. She picked up the nearest phone and dialed a number she knew by heart. **_*4*_**

“Quentin Lance,” said her father’s voice a moment later.

“Daddy,” Laurel said, her voice pained, “I need the cops at C.N.R.I. I just got attacked by that serial killer that killed Felicity Smoak.”

“What!? Are you alright!?” Quentin shouted.

“He got a piece of me, literally, but I gave him something else to remember me by,” Laurel said with a bitter smile. “He’s down and out, but I don’t trust him not to wake up. I’m gonna try and tie him up. But… please come soon, Dad.”

“I’m already on my way, baby, and I’m gonna call Sara, she’s closer,” Quentin said. “You stay safe, first and foremost!”

“I will,” Laurel promised. She hung up, and then proceeded to unplug a few phone cords, which she used to tie the Huntsman up. She shuddered as she realized that the suit that he was wearing probably wasn’t made of any kind of leather she knew. Just as she finished binding the bastard, Sara stormed in, eyes afire, which meant she had either already been on her way to C.N.R.I. to drag Laurel away from her work and make sure that she ate, or she had broken every traffic law in the books to get here so fast. Laurel decided it was probably the former, as she was known in her family and close circle of friends to work through dinner.

“Where is he!?” Sara said violently, then spotted the slowly-waking Huntsman on the ground. “Oh, no you don’t…” she growled, and started kicking him the same as Laurel had not too long before. “You. Don’t. Touch. My. _Sister!_ ” The final word was delivered with a kick to the head, knocking the Huntsman out again, and then Laurel had her arms full of her younger sister, who was holding her tight. Laurel returned the hug, and the two young women remained in that position until their father stormed in followed by the F.B.I. Quentin moved straight to his daughters while Agent Alex Danvers looked down at the Huntsman and thought that the man would have quite the memory to remember the Lance sisters by. Not for the first time, she wished she had had a sister.

Ten minutes later, Agents Danvers and Trimble had pulled the Lance family into Laurel’s office to ask her about the attack. “Alright, Miss Lance, you take your time,” Trimble said softly. “Tell it to us in your own time, at your own pace.” Both Quentin and Sara had a reassuring hand on Laurel’s shoulder as she held her bandaged left hand in her right, rubbing her right thumb over the spot where she knew the Huntsman had taken a piece out of her.

“I’d just finished working,” Laurel began slowly, “and I came out to find the lights were off. They’d been on when Joanna waved goodbye earlier. I thought maybe she had just turned them off, but… I was a little suspicious. I’ve been kidnapped too many times the past few weeks.” Quentin gave an annoyed huff to indicate how _he_ felt about that and the reasons behind those abductions, and Laurel gave her father a tremulous smile. He squeezed her shoulder in return. “I armed myself with my pepper spray and warned whoever it was that I could defend myself. I heard a chuckle. I said I was going to leave, and that they’d get an arrow in them if they hurt me because of who my boyfriend is. The Huntsman spoke. His voice was modulated, like Ollie used to do. He said Ollie was why I was being targeted. We fought, exchanged words, fought some more. I thought I got in a few lucky hits, but he used one of them to take a bite out of me.” Laurel held up her bandaged hand. Everyone in the room grimaced at the reminder of the Huntsman’s proclivities, and Sara looked like she wanted nothing more than to start thumping on the Huntsman again. An attitude that Quentin seemed to share, based on his angry glower, though that could’ve been because of the fact this was apparently due to Laurel’s relationship with Oliver Queen.

“What happened next, that you got the upper hand against him?” Alex asked.

“Something inside of me just… _snapped_ ,” Laurel confessed. “I realized I was so sick of being the victim, being easy prey, being the fucking damsel in distress that Ollie has to save, or Sara, like in Metropolis.” Sara nodded at that when the agents looked to her. “I just started using every damn thing that Ted Grant and Ollie showed me, driving that bastard back, and when I got a chance, I kicked him in the chin. Once he was down, I just kept kicking him, screaming that I wasn’t his plaything. Once he was down and out, I called Dad. When we hung up, I unplugged some phone cords to tie him up. Sara came in just as I was finishing; he was coming around, but Sara kicked him a bunch, too, and then kicked him in the head, knocking him out again. Then we just sat and waited.”

“Thank you for telling us all of this,” Alex said, putting a comforting hand on Laurel’s leg. “I’m sure that that couldn’t have been easy to relive. You are the very first survivor we’ve had of the Huntsman’s intended victims, Miss Lance. You’re going to be a key witness in his trial. I hope you’re ready for that.”

“I’m ready,” Laurel said determinedly. “You just tell me when and where, and I’ll be there to nail that bastard to the wall.”

Alex grinned. “You’ve got spirit,” she said. “You’re going to need it, to get through this. What you’ve been through is gonna leave more scars than just the physical. But you have your strength of spirit, and you have your family. Lean on them, Miss Lance, and I think you’ll be just fine.”

_And I have Ollie,_ Laurel added silently, though she wasn’t looking forward to telling him about her experience. He was going to freak out, especially since she was sure, as he would most likely be, that the Huntsman had been contracted to kill her by Malcolm Merlyn.

**_*DC*_ **

Oliver Queen had just returned from his visit with Wilhelmina Hollinger, who had been _very_ uppity and proclaimed him to be of a ‘baser intellect’ due to his status as a vigilante, knowing that he would probably have to visit her again to get her to capitulate, and to find the evidence that he needed. Like Pollard, she was just arrogant enough that she would probably not even think to hide her secrets. He had his suspicions that she did more than _back_ every human trafficking ring. Once was random, twice was coincidence, but three times? Three times was a pattern. “Dig further into Hollinger,” he told Henry. “I think she’s got more to do with these human trafficking rings than just receiving a part of the payments.” He noticed Henry was watching him with a grave expression on his face, and Oliver felt his stomach jerk uncomfortably. “What is it, Henry?” he asked.

“Miss Lance got attacked tonight, boss,” Henry said. “You were off-comms, and all I could fucking do was run upstairs and tell Sara since she was taking stock of what she’s got in the shop.”

“What happened? Is she alright?” Oliver asked urgently.

“That freak that killed Miss Smoak attacked her,” Henry said. Instantly, Oliver was haunted by images of Felicity’s severed head, apple in its mouth, in that box, and before his eyes those images shifted so that it was Laurel’s, her green eyes dulled by the glaze of death, staring at him above the red apple forced into her mouth. He stumbled and grabbed the railing. “She’s okay, she’s okay,” Henry said hurriedly. “She put up a hell of a fight, boss. You’d be proud of her. The Huntsman got a piece of her, though, _literally_ , and that seemed to freak her out. She completely lost it, beating the shit outta the guy and tying him up. Then Sara got there, and beat the shit outta him, too.”

“Let me know the _instant_ I can call her,” Oliver ordered. Henry nodded. “In the meantime, I have another call to make…”

**_*DC*_ **

Malcolm Merlyn was alone in his office, smug in the knowledge that by now, Laurel Lance was probably screaming in agony as the Huntsman cut into her, when his cell phone rang. He picked it up, noticed the caller I.D. was ‘Blocked’, and smiled cruelly. He answered the call. “Oliver,” he greeted. “Something on your mind this evening?”

“You know, Malcolm, there was a time I thought that you were redeemable, that I would try to spare you, if only because I know what it’s like to lose both of your parents and I didn’t want to do that to Tommy and Thea,” Oliver said, his tone flat and surprisingly menacing. “I thought I could reach the part of you that I call my dark mirror, the part that still has some semblance of honor. But now I realize that I was fooling myself. There is not an honorable bone in your body, is there?”

“I possess a degree of honor, as much as any assassin can afford,” Malcolm replied. “But perhaps you could enlighten me as to what dishonorable thing I am to have done now?”

“You sent the Huntsman after Laurel,” Oliver snarled, and Malcolm smirked in triumph. Already, his opponent was unhinged by the demise of his beloved, and she wasn’t even dead yet, nor had he seen her recorded demise. When that time came, oh it was going to be, and he hoped people would pardon him the pun, _delicious_. But the smirk of triumph faded when Oliver continued, “But you and he both underestimated her. She’s stronger than you think, you sick son-of-a-bitch, and she beat your _fucking_ assassin into the ground! He’s in the F.B.I.’s custody, and I doubt he has any _loyalty_ to you! You’d best be ready for the storm that’s coming, Merlyn, because between me and the F.B.I., your Tempest and your Undertaking are all but destroyed!”

“I must confess, I _am_ surprised that Miss Lance is alive,” Malcolm said after a moment. “I had paid a great deal for her to be processed by the Huntsman while she was still alive, and have that recorded so you could watch the woman you love suffer and die, the way I had to listen to my wife do the same. A pity. But I doubt the Huntsman will be offered a deal by the F.B.I., even if he tries to offer me up. They know very little about Tempest and what we’re planning, and the Huntsman is going to be a fine feather in the cap of every agent involved in his capture. They won’t risk tarnishing that by making a deal with such a monster.”

“Maybe,” Oliver agreed. “But that still leaves me, and like an old friend of mine is fond of saying, I _keep_ my promises, and I made you a promise when I began this crusade, Malcolm. Let me reiterate it here for you in case you’ve forgotten. Your Undertaking will fail. Your Tempest _will_ be broken. And you will _pay_ for all of the lives you’ve destroyed in pursuit of this madness!”

“I keep my promises, too, Oliver,” Malcolm said calmly, “so allow me to make _you_ a promise in return. Continue to act against me, and I will break you in every way imaginable and force you to watch the Glades _burn_ before ending your miserable existence.” Malcolm hung up and set his phone aside. He had already received a message from Wilhelmina Hollinger that Oliver had visited her. If he managed to expose her as he had exposed Pollard and forced Kullens to resign, that would leave only two members of Tempest besides himself. One of them, Thaddeus Cable, was well-hidden as a socialite newly-arrived to Starling named Thomas Wilkins (the same man who had made the joke about Democrats at Moira’s dinner party all those weeks ago), but the other, Carl Ballard, was weak-willed and could prove to be a weak link that Oliver could exploit. **_*5*_**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter.
> 
> Chapter Notes:
> 
> *1* I felt that Kullens would be spineless enough that he would rather face corruption charges than be exposed as a member of Tempest, which would end his life one way or another. He would rather face charges of corruption and potentially face a little prison time than betray Malcolm or have Oliver put an arrow in his heart.
> 
> *2* (shudders) Writing a scene with The Huntsman immediately after a scene with a scheming Malcolm was *nightmare-inducing*! As for the bit about when Laurel’s most vulnerable, it is canonically true she works late sometimes, and that would probably double now that she’s the director of C.N.R.I.
> 
> *3* Wilhelmina Hollinger is technically an OC, based on “Mrs. Hollinger”, a minor Green Arrow villain who targeted the hero because he accidentally killed her hoodlum son and declared vengeance against GA to be her only reason for living.
> 
> *4* Writing this scene was cathartic to write, and not just because Laurel finally reached that point where she says “enough” and kicks ass. For too many variations, the Huntsman has gotten away or managed to put Laurel in a vulnerable position only to be driven back by someone like Oliver. It was about time she got to kick his ass, even if she’s not officially Black Canary yet. As for the bit where he got a piece of her? Well, now he’s ‘had a taste of her’, and she’s also ‘the one who got away’, setting him up as a potential recurring villain who can be her nemesis the way the Dark Archer is to Oliver. That was what he was intended to be back when I created him for “Fires of Purgatory”, at any rate. But I won’t be bringing him back for a little while at least.
> 
> *5* As much as I despise writing Malcolm scenes, I *am* going to miss writing his and Oliver’s little conversations. Ah, well, there are always other stories where Malcolm is alive that I can indulge this passion in.


	56. Nightmares

When the familiar ringtone of the phone that Oliver had had his new protégé slip her filled the air, Laurel gave Sara a look, and her sister just smiled. Laurel pulled the phone out of her purse and opened it. “Hey, Ollie,” she said.

“Are you all right?” Oliver asked.

“Coming down off the adrenalin and my left hand is throbbing from where the Huntsman got a piece of me, but I’m fine, Ollie,” Laurel said. “The training that you and Ted gave me? It helped, and I was able to hold my own. Not just hold my own; I beat someone. I finally beat one of these bastards who think I’m easy prey to get to you through.”

“I’m glad,” Oliver said quietly, and Laurel could hear that it was genuine. “I know you can be a bad-ass, Laurel. I did what I could to give you the tools, and I know you’ve been working with Ted. Once we get back to training, and once Sara is better and can put you through her own training… you’re going to be one hell of a force to be reckoned with. I just know it.”

“You know it had to be Malcolm who sent him, right?” Laurel said.

“I know it was,” Oliver said darkly. “We spoke to each other. Well, _threatened_ each other. I thought there was a chance I could reach him, Laurel, that I wouldn’t have to kill him and rob Tommy and Thea of their father. But he’s beyond redemption. I know that now.”

“Yes, he is, Ollie,” Laurel said. “But I promise you, I’m fine. You don’t need to worry about me. I’m back home, and Sara’s here, and still pissed about the Huntsman going after me. Someone tries to break in and finish the job, she’s going to kill them with a paperclip.”

“No, with my _pinky_ ,” Sara declared, holding up said digit. Laurel heard Oliver chuckle softly, apparently some inside joke. He had a lot of those for some reason, and he would just say, “Novu” when asked. It was getting kind of annoying. “Don’t worry, Ollie,” Sara said louder, so her voice carried. “She’s safe with me. Hell, she’s safe just by herself! Quite the little bad-ass, our Laurel.”

“Okay, enough, I took down _one guy_ ,” Laurel said, feeling a little flushed at all the praise.

“One guy who is a serial killer that the F.B.I. has been chasing for years,” Sara reminded her.

“Don’t remind me of what he is, please,” Laurel begged. “I already have enough proof with my hand. I don’t even want to think about what he was _wearing_.” She shuddered. She knew Oliver was probably curious what she meant, but he didn’t ask.

Instead, he said, “Well, I’m proud of you, Laurel. You’ve really grown over the past few weeks. You’re going to be one hell of a fighter before your journey’s done, Dinah Laurel Lance. I just know it. I should go. But I wanted to make sure you were okay. I love you.”

“I love you, too, Ollie,” Laurel said, and hung up. She stared at the phone pensively. “I half-expected him to be freaking out that I’d been attacked and demanding I move into wherever he’s staying.”

“Ollie knows you can handle yourself,” Sara said with a shrug, “and he knows the things you can’t handle, I can. Except guns,” she amended, scowling as her hand pressed against her stomach. “I’m gonna modify my suit so it can take getting shot,” she told her sister. “General League armor is bulletproof. But I made my suit to focus on sex appeal and keep the scumbags distracted with these.” She gestured to her breasts. “But I see the downside now. No armor means I risk getting a bullet in the stomach again, or worse, the _heart_ , and there’s no coming back from that. I don’t want to put you, Mom, and Dad through the pain of losing me again. Not if I can help it.”

“Thank you, Sara,” Laurel said, taking her sister’s hand. “As much as I appreciate you wanting to help Ollie when you’re healed, I’m glad you’re going to take the proper precautions. I wouldn’t want to lose you to some lucky gang-banger.” She squeezed Sara’s hand gently. “Maybe one day you can be like Ollie, fighting in the light of day, be someone _other_ than the Canary.”

“I’d like that,” Sara admitted softly. “The Canary… The Canary is a shadow, striking from darkness and fading away. If I do start doing what Ollie’s doing, I want to do it without the shadow of the League hanging over my head.”

“We’ll have to find you a name that goes with whatever your suit turns into, then,” Laurel said brightly. “Maybe something color-coded, like Ollie’s?”

“Maybe,” Sara agreed. “In the meantime, we never did get dinner, and you need _something_ to eat after what you’ve been through.”

“Alright,” Laurel said slowly. “But… nothing with meat. Not right now. I just… I can’t.” She looked down at her bandaged hand, remembering the feel of her flesh being ripped into, the sound of the Huntsman chewing the chunk of flesh he had bitten off of her and swallowing it.

Sara noticed the way her sister was looking at her hand. “Alright, veggie pizza, coming up,” she said cheerily, trying to take her sister’s mind off of the dark thoughts that were no doubt going through it. Laurel glanced up at her sister and smiled. It was a small one, but it was there. Sara nodded, satisfied, as she snatched up her phone. Time to call Mario’s and order her sister’s favorite pizza from there, mushroom and olive. She thought it was weird, but then, Laurel had always had her own way of doing things and avoided ‘classical’ choices like Meat Lovers and Hawaiian. **_*1*_**

**_*DC*_ **

Sara Lance shot up in bed as a terrified scream echoed from the room across the hall. She was out of bed, slapping Laurel’s door open with an open palm, and at her sister’s side in less than a minute. She shook Laurel, who was twisting in her sheets, tears streaming down her face, an angry snarl twisting her lips as she cried, and Laurel’s green eyes shot open, her chest heaving as sweat soaked the t-shirt she was sleeping in. She pushed herself into a sitting position, clenching the blankets pooled over her legs and closing her eyes, taking deep breaths as Sara rubbed soothing circles on her back, the way that their mother had done for both of them as children. “How bad?” Sara asked quietly.

“He had me tied down, and while I couldn’t hear the words, I just _knew_ he was telling me how he was going to cook me,” Laurel said, shivering. “I looked into that man’s eyes tonight, Sara, and there was just… nothing. No rage, no pleasure, just pure darkness. Even when he was being hauled away, he was just staring at me, a hungry look on his face. I know he’s in jail and that he’s never going to get out, not with how many women he’s killed. But a part of me can’t help but feel like this isn’t over, that this is actually just the beginning, that he’s going to come for me, again and again, because I beat him, because I’m the one who got away.”

“Laurel,” Sara said, taking her sister by the shoulders and forcing Laurel to look at her, “if this bastard gets out, if he comes for you again, we will _beat his ass_ again, and this time, I’ll do whatever it takes to send him to hell so he never hurts you again.” She took her sister’s left hand, fingering the bandage tenderly. “This? This is the last bit of you that bastard will _ever_ have. I’m not going to lose my sister to a cannibal, and you’re not going to fall to him, because if he ever escapes, by that time you’re gonna be one well-trained bad-ass, and you’ll be able to take him down again, but quicker and leaving him broken in the process. And like I said, after that, I’ll kill him. Or Ollie will, if I’m not around for some reason.”

“Is it wrong that I don’t feel as bad as I probably should that my boyfriend and baby sister are both willing to kill to protect me?” Laurel asked.

“No,” Sara said. “It just means you’re human. Never lose that part of you, Laurel. Always hold onto your humanity, and you will be a better person than Oliver and I will ever be.”

“I will,” Laurel said, “but you and Ollie have more humanity than you give yourselves credit for. Don’t argue with me, Sara,” she added, seeing the stubborn look on her sister’s face. “Yes, you’ve killed people, and so has Ollie, but the both of you came out of this with your ability to _love_ intact, and as long as you have that, as long as you have _love_ , than you still have your humanity. If you believe nothing else that I say, then believe that.” **_*2*_**

Sara was silent as she considered Laurel’s words. “I don’t know if I can believe that, Laurel,” she finally said. “But I’ll try.”

**_*DC*_ **

Oliver Queen woke up with a start, coming out of a nightmare that had to be inspired by that old movie _The Burbs_ , since it involved Laurel being strung across a massive barbecue grill by cackling men in demon masks. He sat on the edge of the cot, a cold sweat soaking his body, and he closed his eyes, shuddering as the images from his nightmare flashed across his vision. As if he didn’t have enough fodder for nightmares from the future that no longer existed, this new timeline was giving him all new nightmares. He would’ve been honestly more comfortable if Sara had killed the Huntsman, but he supposed that since Laurel had called her father and reported it that it would’ve made things _awkward_ when the F.B.I. and Quentin showed up, and the last thing they needed was people looking closer at Sara and what she was up to.

Oliver checked his watch, which was resting on the ground beside the cot. It was just barely noon; he had gone out for a late night patrol after watching the confrontation between Laurel and the Huntsman, which had been recorded by Henry because he recorded everything that happened at places that Laurel and Thea frequented, having hijacked the cameras and the like to keep an eye on them for Oliver. He had seen the exact moment Laurel had had her ‘enough is enough’ moment, and it had been like seeing that woman who was desperate to prove herself, desperate for him to train her all over again. Which was why he had been supportive of her when he called and told her how proud he was of her, because she needed encouragement. Oliver knew now that Laurel was destined to become Black Canary; how could she not, with he and Sara being who they were? It wasn’t Oliver’s place to try and stop destiny from happening; it _was_ his place to make sure the woman he loved became the best damned martial artist on the planet so that _no one_ could threaten her, and he would have to make sure and talk to her about the magical protection once he was free and clear.

Oliver sighed and went to his training area. It was a simpler set up than what he had had at the Bunker: a treadmill, salmon ladder, and weight machine. He jumped on the treadmill and began his ‘morning run’. He wouldn’t be getting back to sleep anytime soon, especially with that nightmare about Laurel and the barbecue grill fresh in his mind.

**_*DC*_ **

“How do you do it?” Joanna de la Vega marveled at her friend, sitting in the chair in front of her desk.

“Do what?” Laurel asked distractedly.

“How do you go through these traumatic experiences and somehow come out a functioning human being and not a gibbering mess?” Joanna clarified. “If it was me, I wouldn’t have been able to come here for a while after what happened.”

“I guess I’m just used to this stuff now,” Laurel said with a shrug. “And C.N.R.I. is too important to me, too important to _this city_ , for me to take a day off. I’ll deal with my trauma in my off-hours. Besides, as soon as she closes up shop, Sara’s gonna be perched in that chair again every night for at least a week, even though the Huntsman is in custody. She doesn’t trust that some other scumbag won’t take a shot at me now that me working alone at night has got me attacked.” _Or that Merlyn won’t try something else,_ Laurel added silently to herself. “Now, I really got to work on this case file, Joanna, so unless there’s something pressing…”

“I’ll leave you to work,” Joanna said, standing up. “Just wanted to make sure for myself that you were all right after what happened.”

“I appreciate your concern, Joanna,” Laurel said genuinely, giving her a friend a smile. Joanna headed out, and as a result didn’t see Laurel’s smile turn into a grimace as she eyed her bandaged hand. While this had been a victory for her, defeating the Huntsman the way she had, she was always going to have a reminder of what _could have been_ , of what _almost_ happened to her. Because she knew, in her heart, that if the Huntsman had got her, if he had taken her to wherever he was going to do it, that Oliver would never have found her in time.

But this just made her more certain than ever that she had to get _better_ , that she had to learn to be the _best damn fighter_ that she could be. Boxing and the A.S.I.S. training Oliver was giving her (which he was vague about where he learned it from) wasn’t going to be enough. But what Sara knew could be the beginning of a whole new approach, and there were always the other forms of martial arts to learn afterward to mix up and create her own unique fighting style with. The grimace became a soft smile again, and she gave a determined nod. She was done being the damsel in distress. From now on, she was going to be the one sending these bastards limping away in terror. Not Ollie, not Sara, _her!_

**_*DC*_ **

Green Arrow smiled grimly as he left a vindictive and shouting Wilhelmina Hollinger giving a vicious oath that she would dedicate her life to destroying him if he revealed her secrets; in comparison to other enemies he had faced throughout his life, Mrs. Hollinger simply wasn’t that much of a threat. He dived out of the window of her high-rise penthouse apartment and fired a grappling arrow, swinging away from the building and towards the alley a few blocks away where he had stowed his bike. Oversight had dug into her system and confirmed everything that Green Arrow had suspected: Mrs. Hollinger didn’t just receive a cut of the profits from human traffickers for some random reason; she was the silent partner of every human trafficking operation that he had shut down, having given those responsible the start-up funds they needed to pay for security, bribe the police to look the other way, all of it. And why? Because she saw the people of the Glades as trash, refuse to be burned away because their families hadn’t been in Starling for much more than generation, or they had moved there recently.

Green Arrow landed in the alleyway and made his way to his bike. “Anything happening nearby that needs an intervention?” he asked Oversight.

“ **Got a report of a possible hate crime going down in Seagate Park,** ” Oversight informed him. Seagate Park was the park that rang alongside Orchid Bay, which in turn opened up into the ocean, hence the name ‘Seagate’. Green Arrow drove out of the alleyway and entered traffic, heading in the direction of Seagate Park. He weaved in and out of traffic, ignoring the honks that sounded, figuring it was either people angry that he was cutting in front of them or supporters of Green Arrow honking in greeting (a strange thing, but apparently it happened). Green Arrow made it to Seagate Park quickly and hopped off his bike, racing into the park, cocking his head for any sounds of a disturbance. He heard the cries of pain coming from a man to his left, where there was a passageway under a bridge, one of the best places to lay in ambush.

Green Arrow raced into the passageway under the bridge, eyes scanning the situation. He barely acknowledged that he knew both of these men who were being attacked before he was on the attackers, a biker gang from the looks of it. He fired a tranquilizer arrow at the biggest of the lot before blocking an incoming strike with a bat before delivering a kick to the bat-wielder’s midsection. The man doubled over, wheezing, and Green Arrow clubbed him over the head with his bow. He turned, dodged a crowbar strike, and then delivered a knife-hand strike to the man’s throat, causing the man to drop the crowbar and reach up to his throat, gagging. Green Arrow grabbed the man by the collar of his leather jacket and delivered a sound beating before letting the man fall, because in his mind’s eye, he was seeing a future where William suffered assaults like this because he liked men, and he could not, _would not_ let that stand, not in his city. **_*3*_**

Green Arrow continued his one-man defense of Curtis Holt and his husband, Paul, and in the end, each of the bikers was down and had either a concussion or broken bones. Green Arrow turned to face Curtis and Paul. “It’s alright,” he said softly. “You’re both safe. Let’s get you out of the park.”

“Curtis is going to need some help, they got his leg pretty good,” Paul said, looking at his husband in desperation. Green Arrow said nothing, just pulled Curtis’ right arm around his shoulder and placed his hand on Curtis’ back, moving him forward. Paul helped on the other side, whispering to Curtis that he was going to be okay. “Thank you. We saw someone leave, and hoped they’d called the cops.”

“A friend heard about it over the police radio, so they should be here soon,” Green Arrow said. “And it was my honor to help. No one should be attacked like this because of something like the fact they like men. A good friend of mine is bisexual, and she and her sister are two of the most compassionate, good-hearted people I know. From what I’ve seen of the two of you, you share that quality with each other.”

“Thank you, Mr. Queen,” Curtis said gratefully.

“Like I said, Mr. Holt, it’s my honor,” Oliver said. Curtis looked at him in surprise. “I remember everyone who worked for me during my brief time as head of Applied Sciences, Curtis, and you stuck out in my mind because of your passion.”

“Thanks,” Curtis said, blushing, and Paul smiled at Green Arrow. He knew his man was passionate about his work, and it was nice to see that the man had recognized that during his time as Curtis’ superior, something Doug Miller had certainly failed at. Or maybe that was just because Miller hated gay people. They were still discriminated against in certain parts of society and Paul hadn’t liked the feel of Doug Miller when he met him during a company get-together.

They made it to the front of the park, where the Green Arrow’s bike was waiting, and could see the lights of the police cars in the distance. “You’ll be safe here until the cops arrive,” Green Arrow said confidently. “Good luck, Mr. Holt, Mr. Holt.” He nodded to each of them and got on his bike.

“Good luck to you as well, Mr. Queen,” Paul said, and they watched as Green Arrow pulled away on his bike.

**_*DC*_ **

Malcolm Merlyn was once more seething behind ‘closed doors’ in his ‘panic room’. Wilhelmina Hollinger was under arrest for human trafficking. Tempest was slowly being broken, just as Oliver had promised. All that was left was the weak-willed Carl Ballard, the cleverly-hidden Thaddeus Cable, and Malcolm himself. Moira was dead, Frank likely rotting in a dark hole somewhere, Pollard and Kullens removed from power and charged with corruption and, in Pollard’s case, terrorism, and now Mrs. Hollinger had been removed from the board due to her understandable desire to cleanse Starling City of those corrupting it and make a little profit while she was at it.

There was nothing else Malcolm could do. He _had_ to act, but all of his other attempts to punish Oliver Queen had failed. The bounty was still out there, but no one was willing to take it after the display Oliver had put on in the Glades and in protecting his sister. The Huntsman was in F.B.I. custody and while Malcolm doubted a deal would ever be made, it was possible the man _would_ turn Malcolm in simply out of spite, for being the one he was working for and having given him such stringent restrictions to work under. Hadrian Wolcott, as he was known as, would probably consider those restrictions to be the reason he had been captured since without them, he could have subdued Laurel Lance however was necessary, but with Malcolm’s desires for her to _suffer_ so that Oliver would suffer… Yes, there was simply too much risk there and yet Malcolm could do nothing to get to the Huntsman.

His dreams might well be shattered hopes in the coming days, especially if Oliver got to Carl Ballard. Malcolm picked up his encrypted phone and dialed a number.

“ **Yes?** ” asked the man on the other end, his voice modulated by the encrypted phone he used as Malcolm’s modulated his.

“Do it,” Malcolm said. “I want the packages delivered to me by noon tomorrow.” The ‘packages’ being Samantha and William Clayton.

“ **It will be as you ask,** ” the man replied, and hung up. Nothing more needed to be said.

Malcolm opened his own laptop and brought up a list of Tempest holdings where he could take delivery and set up a trap for Oliver. Here. A warehouse not too far from where Green Arrow had destroyed the Bertinellis’ last supply of drugs. It had only two entrances, both of which could be wired with explosives so as to keep the police from trying to enter, but an archer with zipline arrows could enter through the roof.

Malcolm eyed his League uniform. He _wanted_ to deal with Laurel Lance himself, but she was under guard during the nights from her sister, who he had been watching carefully through an intermediary. The man had recorded enough of Sara Lance, including when she busted the heads of a slimy alderman who had tried to poach protection money from her and his muscle, to let things finally click into place. The recordings combined with the reports from Metropolis guaranteed his belief that Sara Lance had been trained by the League of Assassins. This confirmed Oliver’s connection to Ra’s, which explained why the League had not acted against Malcolm themselves. They were going to wait until Oliver had tried and failed to stop him, and then they would cleanse the entire city, and take Malcolm’s children to pay penance for their father’s sins. He couldn’t stop that; but he could break Oliver Queen’s spirit before breaking his body. Losing his son, his sister, and his lover would accomplish the former, making the latter a mere formality.

As to the problem of Sara Lance… the only way to get to Laurel Lance was during the day. He would need to hire mercenaries to do the abduction. It would be loud and probably messy, but that might well see C.N.R.I. close its doors, losing people, including their director, to ‘gang violence’ in the Glades. Malcolm smiled grimly as he looked at his uniform. Very soon, the legend of the Green Arrow would _finally_ die. **_*4*_**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter.
> 
> Chapter Notes:
> 
> *1* This is the pizza place and specific toppings of the pizza that Laurel had ordered in the episode “Muse of Fire”, where Tommy shows up with Chinese food. Something tells me, based on how Tommy reacted, that this is actually her favorite pizza, but she likes the Chinese food he brought just a little more.
> 
> *2* Laurel was, in my opinion, the most human of the Earth-1 heroes and, had she lived to see the Crisis on Infinite Earths, been the *perfect* Paragon of Humanity, and I wanted to write a scene that showcased that. I hope this succeeded in doing that.
> 
> *3* I’ve been aiming to do a scene like this for a while, because I felt that Oliver would take these sorts of attacks personally due to knowing that his son is gay. I chose to use Curtis and Paul because they’re familiar characters and I didn’t see much point in creating an OC couple for one scene which wouldn’t be as impactful as doing that scene with people we knew.
> 
> *4* And so the march towards a confrontation over 50 chapters in the making begins. Everything that has been happening in this story has been leading to Malcolm and Oliver’s fateful Christmas confrontation. It’s happening a little earlier than it did in canon since Oliver’s been dismantling Tempest itself and not just taking down Listers.


	57. Meltdown

Darius Trimble looked at his cell phone as it rang, still in the middle of shaving his stubble away. The Caller I.D. read ‘Blocked’, which meant only one thing in his mind. He slid the icon up. “Calling to arrange your surrender into our custody, Mr. Queen?” he asked.

“No, Agent Trimble,” Oliver replied on the other end. “Calling to give you a new lead on Tempest. Carl Ballard is the last member of Tempest I know of for certain; I’m having trouble tracking down the last member of their inner circle. But Ballard isn’t like the others; he wants to gentrify the Glades, make a profit from them, which isn’t something that Tempest’s leader wants. If you press Ballard the right way, you can turn him. You have the rest of the council, save for the leader and the one I haven’t tracked down, in custody: Emily Pollard, Gregory Kullens, and Wilhelmina Hollinger. Press Ballard, get the information you need, and then twist their arms and you bring down one of the greatest conspiracies of the modern age. I’ll be sending you a file with all of Ballard’s illegal activities. Use it how you will, Agent Trimble.” Oliver hung up.

Trimble focused his attention back on his shaving. Once that was done, he would check his email. He was curious as to why Queen would give up the chance to take down the last known member of Tempest if he were to be believed and Carl Ballard and the other three named were part of its ‘inner circle’. There had to be something else at work here; Queen had to gain something by giving him this win after doing nothing since the incident with Helena Bertinelli. But Trimble wasn’t about to ignore someone who clearly knew what Tempest was up to and who its membership was. He would arrange to have Kullens and Hollinger brought in to be questioned once Ballard had confessed. And he would confess; Trimble was very good at breaking suspects, and from the sounds of it, he would have all the leverage he needed to make Ballard sing.

**_*DC*_ **

Samantha Clayton held her son close to her as she knelt beside him in the cell, and that was the best name for it, that they had been shoved into who knew how long ago. She and William had just returned from a movie when men with guns broke into their home and held them at gunpoint, putting black bags over their heads and forcing them out of the house and into a vehicle, a van from the way they were loaded into it. William had huddled against her side, crying loudly, and one of the men had told her to silence ‘the brat’ if she didn’t want him ventilated. Samantha had done her best to comfort her son, seeing as they couldn’t see each other, and eventually he had fallen asleep, having cried himself into exhaustion.

Samantha had stayed up, though, frightened of falling asleep, wondering where they were being taken. They had driven for hours, though it was anyone’s guess which direction it had been in, and then they had been hauled out of the van and brought to this cell, where the bags were finally removed from their heads. Ever since, she had been holding onto William, who was shuddering violently. Whatever this was about, whoever had done this, she hated them for it, because now her son’s innocent view of the world had been forever shattered by this. She knew people claimed kids could bounce back from everything, but she worried about whether that was true for truly traumatic experiences.

She heard the locks outside being turned, and stood, pushing William behind her. He clung to her coat, burying his face in it as a man in an expensive suit entered. “What is this?” she demanded to know as the man came to a stop. “I don’t have any money; I can’t pay any ransom. Or is this about-about a slave grab? If you want me, you can have me. But leave my son out of this!” William burrowed into her further, and she put a comforting hand on the back of his head.

“Ah, but the boy is what this is all about, Miss Clayton,” the man said with a smirk as his cold blue eyes looked down at William. “I learned of William’s existence some time ago, while researching an old acquaintance, who, it turns out, had a great many secrets closeted away. Perhaps you remember my acquaintance. Moira Queen?”

Samantha felt a chill go down her spine, her mouth suddenly very dry. She had a guess what this was about. “He’s just a boy,” she said desperately. “He doesn’t know about-about _him_ , and I doubt Moira told _him_ about William.”

“I suspect that is true,” the man in the suit replied. “Ah, but where are my manners? I know your names, but you don’t know mine. The niceties should be observed, even under such grim circumstances. My name is Malcolm Merlyn.”

“Why would you tell us your name?” Samantha whispered, terrified. She knew the name, if only peripherally; Oliver had mentioned his godfather once in a story he told her.

“Because you won’t be speaking to anyone ever again,” Malcolm said coldly. “Oliver Queen has all but taken everything from me with his actions. The only thing I can do now is return the favor, break his spirit before his body.”

“He’s just a boy,” Samantha sobbed.

“Yes, a boy whose father is the Green Arrow!” Malcolm suddenly snarled. “And he’ll likely become just as interfering as his bastard of a father! I’ll be doing the world a favor by culling it of all those who share the Queen blood and name!” Samantha flinched back, scared out of her mind for her son, because she could see the gleam of fanaticism in Malcolm’s eyes. He truly believed what he was saying. He believed he would be doing the world a _favor_ by killing her son, her innocent boy, all because his father happened to be the Green Arrow. William had started crying again. “Enjoy these final hours of life, Miss Clayton. Soon, very soon, you will die.” There were muffled shouts from outside, shouts that seemed to be coming from a girl. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have someone else I need to _inform_ about things.” Malcolm turned and exited the room, the door closing behind him, and the locks being turned again.

Samantha collapsed to her knees, tears streaming down her cheeks as she sobbed, clinging her tiny son to her. _Hours_. He had said they had _hours_ to live! She held her son tight to her, feeling the rise and fall of his chest, the whisper of air against her ear and hair, the fall of his tears against her skin. How could anyone wish to do something so horrible as kill an innocent child like her son because of who his father was? For the first time since she had heard the news, Samantha hoped that Oliver _did_ know about William, and that he would come for them. She and Oliver would have to talk about things after, because she doubted Malcolm Merlyn was the only enemy Green Arrow had made that would want revenge and try to take it through her son. But for right now, she hoped, no, she _prayed_ that Oliver would find them and save them. **_*1*_**

**_*DC*_ **

Thea Queen fell against the ugly-looking mattress she had been thrown towards by the man who had, until today, been her driver. But he had apparently decided to kidnap her and hold her to ransom. “You think you’re going to get some big paycheck for me, huh!?” she snarled. “You wait! When Malcolm and Tommy find out, you’re going to wish you were dead!”

“On the contrary, Thea,” Malcolm Merlyn said as he entered the room, causing Thea to falter and fall back on the mattress in stunned disbelief. “The only one who will be wishing they were dead is your brother. Oliver has taken whatever chance I had of controlling crime in this city away from me, and because of that, I am going to take everything away from _him._ You may be my daughter, but at the end of the day, you are Moira’s daughter, just as Oliver is her son, and you both inherited that steel will of hers. You would have eventually turned against me, once you knew the truth, just as your mother did by keeping the _Queen’s Gambit_ hidden in Starling City under an LLC named after our… associates.”

“Ollie was right, wasn’t he?” Thea said numbly. “You’re responsible for the crime in the Glades?”

“I brought _order_ to this city!” Malcolm said icily. “I consolidated crime in the Glades, intending to wipe them from the map when the time was right, but now your brother has taken out too many of my allies. We can’t control the crime in this city anymore, with most of them in police custody, and soon the criminal filth will realize it. Now, cleansing the Glades won’t be enough. The whole of Starling City will have to be burned before it can be saved! That is what your brother is responsible for, Thea! Instead of a few thousand _criminals_ , it will be millions of people, innocents among them, who _burn_ because of your brother’s insolent defiance!”

“You were going to kill thousands of people?” Thea asked weakly, her mind going to what Sara had told her in Metropolis. Ollie and Sara had known all this time, they had known what Malcolm was going to do and were trying to _stop_ him. And Thea… Thea had almost accepted his invitation to join him and Tommy in the Merlyn family, to reject who she was because her brother was on the run. She had just asked for the night to think about it and been planning to tell Malcolm her answer after school today.

“Not _people_ , Thea, _criminals_ ,” Malcolm emphasized. “But now I will simply have to let the League of Assassins do their work and hope I can find some way to sate Ra’s al Ghul’s bloodlust aimed at my family. Of which _you_ will not be a part. I can see the disgust on your face, Thea. You share your brother’s foolish belief those people can be saved from their criminality.”

“I-I don’t know about that, but I know you can’t just kill _thousands_ of people!” Thea shouted tearfully. “You’re a monster! And a terrorist!”

“And a murderer,” Malcolm added coldly. “After all, it was _me_ who killed Walter Steele to make your brother C.E.O. of Queen Consolidated.”

“No,” Thea half-sobbed.

“Yes,” Malcolm replied ruthlessly. “It was _me_ who put a bounty on your brother’s head! It was _me_ who sent the Huntsman to kill Laurel Lance! It was _me_ who had the bomb placed on the _Gambit_ to kill Robert!”

“You’re sick, and twisted, and evil,” Thea sobbed.

“Perhaps so,” Malcolm said. “But what I am most of all right now is determined, determined to see Oliver Queen _suffer_ for what he has done to me! He will lose you, and Laurel, and his secret son! Your deaths _will_ break him, and then I will end his miserable existence with a stroke of my blade!” Malcolm turned on his heel and left the room, and Thea collapsed to her knees, shuddering as sobs wracked her body. She had been so _wrong_ , and now, now she was going to _die,_ and Ollie wouldn’t know until it was too late! **_*2*_**

**_*DC*_ **

Darius Trimble and Alex Danvers stared down at Carl Ballard in disbelief. “Could you _repeat_ that?” Trimble asked.

“Malcolm Merlyn is the head of Tempest,” Ballard said. “The Undertaking is a plan to destroy the Glades.”

“What about all of the people there?” Alex demanded to know. “How does he plan to evacuate thousands of people?”

“He doesn’t,” Ballard replied dully. “He plans to wipe out everyone who’s living there. He’s done everything in his power, and had us play along, to criminalize the entire district so we would feel okay with destroying it and wiping out all those people.”

“How could you be party to such a thing?” Trimble demanded to know.

“It didn’t start out like that,” Ballard wailed. “We were forcing people like Adam Hunt to contribute money to the S.C.P.D. to pay for new S.W.A.T. gear, finance new teams of the same, and clean up the city! But it was too slow for him, so he decided to do this! Some of us wanted to pull away! Robert Queen was going to lead the effort, block Merlyn from buying up all of the property in the Glades, but then Merlyn had him killed and forced Moira to take his place! We were _afraid_ of what Merlyn would do to us if we defied him! He’ll _kill_ me if he knows I talked!”

“No, he won’t,” Trimble replied. “You’re going to a federal safehouse, and you’re going to be kept safe until you can testify against Merlyn. Agent Danvers will see to your safety personally.”

“What will you be doing?” Alex asked her boss.

“I’m going after Merlyn with the rest of the team,” Trimble said grimly.

**_*DC*_ **

Tommy Merlyn was panicking just a bit. He hadn’t seen Thea since last night, and she wasn’t picking up her phone. He knew when there were breaks at Berlanti Preparatory, being an alumni himself, and he had tried to call her for three breaks in a row now, each time with it going straight to voicemail. She would’ve sent him a _text_ at least. The last time he had seen her, she had been going to see their father in his study, spend some quality father-daughter time with Malcolm at Malcolm’s request. So, with a bit of reluctance, Tommy had come to C.N.R.I. in order to talk to the one person who might be able to contact Oliver and tell him something was up, assuming she didn’t slap him silly for outing Oliver as Green Arrow and getting her arrested in the process.

Tommy dodged the lawyers and made his way for the glass doors of the director’s office, opening them, and hesitating as he saw Laurel sitting behind her desk, looking stressed, a bandage on her left hand. He had heard about her attack yesterday; he had had to comfort Thea before she left to spend time with Malcolm. Tommy swallowed and mustered his bravery. “Laurel,” he started.

Laurel jerked upright from where she had been reading the file in front of her, and her green eyes narrowed. “ _You,_ ” she snarled, and stood up, coming at him with fire in her eyes. “You. Arrogant. Son. Of. A. Bitch!” she punctuated each word with a slap to some part of his body, the last one being to his face, which he held a hand against, a wounded look appearing on his face. “Please tell me that you didn’t do what you did because you were jealous, Tommy! Please tell me that it really was purely concern for Ollie! Because that, I can understand! But not jealousy!”

“I swear, it wasn’t jealousy, Laurel, honest!” Tommy said, making a ‘cross’ over his heart to show his sincerity. “I still believe Ollie isn’t right in the head, that that island did something to him! But right now, that doesn’t matter! I can’t get ahold of Thea, and she would at least send me a text during break! She has _every day_ during this whole mess, if only to vent about the reporters camped outside of the school, begging for a soundbyte about Ollie being Green Arrow. I’m worried, Laurel, I’m worried someone took her again. I-I figured you would know how to contact Ollie, tell him. I know he’s got that computer guy, Harry or whatever. He could find Thea.”

“When did you last see her?” Laurel asked, moving around her desk and beginning to dig into her purse.

“Last night, she went to spend some quality time with Dad in his study,” Tommy said, and his eyes narrowed when he saw Laurel freeze. “What is it, Laurel? What is it about Dad that’s got you and Oliver so dead set against him? He wouldn’t hurt Thea.”

“He would,” Laurel said. “He would if he thought it’d hurt Ollie.”

“Why do you think that?” Tommy cried in disbelief.

“Because your father controls all of the crime in the city, and Oliver’s been fighting against him for the past two months!” Laurel finally snarled out, unable to help herself, especially after her run-in with the Huntsman.

Tommy reared back as if struck. “That-That can’t be,” he said weakly.

“I’m sorry, Tommy, but it’s true,” Laurel said softly, green eyes giving him a compassionate glance and shining with the truth of her words. “Your father is the godfather of all crime in Starling City.”

Tommy felt as though the world was tilting on its axis, and he stumbled into one of the chairs in Laurel’s office. He kept mumbling, “It _can’t_ be,” over and over. Laurel came around the desk, and pulled one of his hands into her lap, squeezing it gently.

“I know this is a lot to take in, Tommy,” Laurel said. “But are you _sure_ you didn’t see Thea leave Malcolm’s study last night?”

“I-I think she did,” Tommy said, casting his mind back. “Yeah, she did,” he said in relief. “I heard her humming quietly to herself when she was heading to bed. She sounded so _happy,_ Laurel. I know why, too; Dad was gonna ask her about adding Merlyn to her name officially. She just wanted a _family_ again!” Tommy’s voice cracked as he said the word ‘family’. Because if what Laurel was saying was true, his family, such as it was, was well and truly broken.

Laurel dug a flip phone out of her purse, and Tommy raised his eyebrows. “It’s encrypted, a direct line to Ollie,” Laurel said. “It may just be her phone got confiscated by the teacher and she hasn’t got it back. But we should tell him, just in case.” She selected the only contact on the phone and hit the dial button, holding it up to her ear. “Pick up, pick up,” she said nervously. Less than a second later, she hung up, scowling. “It’s turned off, which means he and Henry are probably sleeping after a late shift.”

“Henry, that was the name,” Tommy mumbled. “What do we do now?”

“We go straight to Berlanti Prep and ask to see Thea,” Laurel said. “You’re her guardian; they can’t deny you access. If she’s not there… if she’s not there, then we really start to worry.” She picked up her purse. “Come on,” she said, and hauled him out of his seat. He noted she seemed stronger than she used to be. But as they exited her office, a new problem made itself known as masked men stormed in. Men shouted and women screamed, and Joanna de la Vega stopped in her tracks, staring in horror at the nearest man, who wielded a combat shotgun. The man showed no hesitation, though, and blasted Joanna in the stomach with the shotgun. She flew back and fell to the ground, an agonized scream wrenching from her throat as she held her stomach, which was in tatters and bleeding profusely.

“All of you shut the fuck up right now!” the man with the shotgun snarled, holding his weapon aloft threateningly. His men followed him in this, wielding a combination of pistols, shotguns, and assault rifles. “Now, which one of you pencil necks is Laurel Lance?”

“I’m Laurel,” said the woman in question, stepping forward, trembling slightly. Tommy was right behind her, reaching out as if he wanted to pull her back. “What do you want?”

“Boss said to grab you, and he didn’t care about how messy it was,” the leader said grandly. “Come quietly, and this bitch is the only one who dies.” He gestured to Joanna, who one of the men from the office was kneeling beside, his suit jacket pressed against her stomach, trying desperately to stem the blood flow. Joanna was already looking pale and clammy, though, and if she didn’t get medical attention soon… Laurel swallowed. “What’ll it be, Miss Lance? Does one die or do _all_?” he swung his shotgun down threateningly, aiming at the head of the man beside Joanna. The man gulped but stared directly ahead, either too brave or too afraid to look away.

“I’ll come,” Laurel said, her voice wavering slightly. “Tommy, please make sure Joanna gets the help she needs.”

“No way I’m letting you go off with these guys alone!” Tommy said. “We both know who probably sent them, and I need to face him, Laurel.” He stepped up beside her. “I’m coming with her to face this ‘boss’ of yours. I got some words to say to him. My name is Tommy Merlyn.” He saw a flash of surprise in the man’s disguised features.

“Fine,” the man said after a moment. He gestured to his men. “Grab them.” Four men came forward, grabbing Laurel and Tommy and dragging them out of C.N.R.I. The last thing Laurel saw of Joanna was the man kneeling beside her, who she was sure was named Adrian Chase, continuing to keep pressure on the wound, but Laurel felt certain that this was Joanna’s last day, and she wept for her friend. **_*3*_**

**_*DC*_ **

Channel 52 News interrupted regular broadcasts everywhere with a breaking news bulletin, causing people to sit up wherever they were. Susan Williams appeared on the screen, looking grave. “This is Susan Williams from Channel 52 News with a special news bulletin,” the reporter began grimly. “As of an hour ago, the Federal Bureau of Investigation issued an arrest warrant for Malcolm Merlyn, C.E.O. of the Merlyn Global Group, on charges of murder and conspiracy to commit an act of terror. Both Merlyn Manor and Merlyn Global’s headquarters have been searched, to no avail. Malcolm Merlyn is to be considered armed and very dangerous. It has been revealed by the F.B.I. that Merlyn orchestrated the death of Robert Queen and those onboard the _Queen’s Gambit_ , forcing Robert’s wife Moira to take her husband’s place in a conspiracy with one horrible purpose: to destroy the Glades district of Starling City and all who live there.

“When threatened with exposure, Moira Queen ended her own life rather than give up Merlyn’s secrets, and because of this, Merlyn had Walter Steele killed, hoping that Oliver Queen would prove to be someone that he could manipulate into doing his bidding, unaware that Oliver Queen was the Green Arrow and had been working against him and his terrorist cabal, the mysterious Tempest that Green Arrow and the F.B.I. have both been pursuing in their separate investigations. Malcolm Merlyn has secretly controlled crime in Starling City for the past eighteen years, forcing criminals to follow his edicts through the use of intimidation and fear tactics stemming from his use of an enforcer, a black clad archer who is ultimately responsible for Walter Steele’s death. This Dark Archer is believed to be responsible for more deaths in pursuit of Merlyn’s plans to destroy the Glades, and is to be considered armed and dangerous, and is likely to be close by Merlyn as he falls from grace.

“It has also been revealed that former Councilwoman Emily Pollard, former Councilman Gregory Kullens, socialite Wilhelmina Hollinger, and realty mogul Carl Ballard are all members of Tempest. All known members of the terrorist cabal, aside from Malcolm Merlyn, are now in custody, though rumor has it one other remains at large aside from Merlyn. It is now clear that the Green Arrow had previously been working to identify the members of Tempest and has been working to bring them down the past two weeks, and force Merlyn to capitulate. It can now be assumed that Merlyn is responsible for the bounty placed on the Green Arrow’s head which Channel 52 News reported on when it was discovered, and speculation abounds as to whether he had anything to do with the attack on Laurel Lance, Director of C.N.R.I., by notorious serial killer and hitman Hadrian Wolcott, aka the Huntsman. Merlyn’s son, Thomas, is also being sought for questioning, as he was adamant in his insinuations that his best friend, the Green Arrow, was suffering from delusions and that Tempest was a figment of Oliver Queen’s imagination. It is now very real and calls into question everything Merlyn said at his now infamous press conference where he exposed Queen as Starling City’s resident vigilante.

“The citizens of Starling City are asked to be on the lookout for Malcolm Merlyn and to report any sighting of this murderer and terrorist to the authorities as soon as possible. The tip-line displayed below is to be used to report any sightings of Merlyn. More on this startling story as it develops. This is Susan Williams, Channel 52 News.” **_*4*_**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter.
> 
> Chapter Notes:
> 
> *1* Oh, man. Writing this scene and Malcolm’s descent into pure madness as a result of becoming unhinged from Oliver’s actions in dismantling Tempest was *brutal*, because I tend to try and put myself into the character’s headspace. Malcolm’s headspace is *not* a happy place in this chapter.
> 
> *2* Poor Thea. She nearly threw it all away for a psychopath who offered her a kind hand. But now she knows what would have been, knows the kind of insanity that drives Malcolm.
> 
> *3* Okay, so, from the top… Tommy finally getting the answers he’s been wanting comes at the worst possible time. Joanna is apparently the latest victim of my Game of Thrones-ish tendencies. Finally, that was the REAL Adrian Chase, not Simon Morrison/Prometheus. Way I see it, he and Talia couldn’t create a whole persona, he needed to adopt the identity of someone who was actually living. I chose to make the real Adrian someone who worked at C.N.R.I. For those wondering, he is portrayed by Noah Bean, who played C.I.A. Analyst Ryan Fletcher on the CW’s “Nikita”, and he might well play a significant role in Volume II of this series.
> 
> *4* Okay, I’ll be honest: this whole chapter has been a thrill to write, right up to and including this news report. I got serious chills writing this all out and I’m really proud of how this chapter turned out.


	58. Fallout II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I considered being a little cracky and calling this chapter "Egg, Meet Face".

Channel 52 News was carried in every major city, and as a result, there was widespread exposure regarding Malcolm Merlyn, Tempest, and the Undertaking that they had set for themselves.

**_*DC*_ **

The President of the United States, Allan Trumbull, watched the news unfolding and prepared to order the National Guard into Starling City to restore order ahead of the likely chaos to follow the announcement of Malcolm Merlyn’s apparent plans to unleash a terrorist attack on a city district. Trumbull would also need to consider what action to take regarding Oliver Queen, depending on how the situation unfolded. There was something he remembered about recently declassified files, about a group of vigilantes who had worked _with_ the government in the 1940s through the 1950s. Perhaps it was time to take a closer look at those files. **_*1*_**

**_*DC*_ **

Roy Harper sat on his couch, staring at the television in stunned disbelief and horror. _That_ was what Oliver had been fighting against all this time? A threat to destroy Roy’s home? Roy felt eternally grateful to Oliver in this moment, because he now knew without a doubt that Oliver Queen cared about the people who called the Glades home and would stand against any threat to them and not get lost in the question of whether they were just a poor maligned businessman like so many others had got caught up in. But Roy also felt terror, wondering how far along the plan to destroy the Glades was, and if it could be employed as of this moment. If it did, he needed to be _out there_ , helping the people who called the Glades home as he did.

He thought of going to the Quiver and informing Oliver and Henry of the recent development but realized that Sara was right there and would probably tell them long before he got to the flower shop. Right now, he needed to make sure the people he had joined Oliver to fight for were safe, because he just _knew_ people might take advantage of any chaos sown. That had to be the priority; he knew when night-time fell, that would be Oliver’s priority as well, assuming that he didn’t have a line on where Merlyn was hiding. Roy felt a fierce thrill of anger flash through his veins as he thought that name. Merlyn had looked down on the people he was forcing to slowly rely on crime, as though he were some demented savior for the city. Well, the city _had_ a savior… only it was the Emerald Archer, not the Dark Archer.

**_*DC*_ **

Barry Allen was in the middle of the morning shift at Queen Consolidated, going over a backlog of projects that had been declared unsustainable by Oliver Queen when he was head of Applied Sciences at the request of the new head, Emiko Adachi, who wanted to make sure Oliver hadn’t overlooked something because of his misunderstanding. He noticed people rushing to watch the news and joined them and stood stunned as the revelations were poured down on them. As he heard the charges and heard what Merlyn had been doing to Starling City, Barry remembered the words Oliver had spoken to him the day he escaped Queen Consolidated ahead of the S.W.A.T. team’s arrival thanks to Barry’s warning: “ _There’s someone far worse out there than the mob, Barry, and I am going to bring him down, even if I have to do it as an outlaw._ ”

Oliver had known even then who he was fighting, that he was facing off with a man who (as the scuttlebutt going around the room at the moment claimed) was his own godfather and had sworn to stay in Starling and fight to bring this man to justice. Barry felt incredibly humbled at the sacrifice Oliver Queen had shown for the sake of thousands of strangers living in the Glades, and he was glad that his words to Joe at Thanksgiving had been vindicated. Oliver Queen was not a murderer, he was _not_ a vigilante, he was a damned hero, and Barry was proud to have helped Oliver in some small way.

**_*DC*_ **

Henry Allen had settled himself on the couch of his and Barry’s apartment, the television on at low volume to produce a comforting buzz of sound (something Henry desperately craved after so long spent in Iron Heights) while he read up on medical advances in the backlog of medical journals Barry had purchased for him, when the news broke. He stared at the screen in stunned disbelief as the news unfolded. He had known that human beings could sink to very low levels in their depravity, but to wish to wipe out an entire district of a city? To work to criminalize that district so that you could feel _good_ about doing that? It was among the worst sort of depravity Henry had ever heard of, and he found himself finally agreeing with his son.

Oliver Queen was a hero to have chosen to stand against Malcolm Merlyn and fight this madness, and Barry had been right to praise him for everything that he had done. When Barry came home tonight, Henry would tell him that he supported Barry’s decision to believe in Oliver Queen, because Oliver Queen had given Henry faith in the heroism that mankind could aspire to again.

**_*DC*_ **

Joe West held his daughter, Iris, close to his chest as they stood watching the news in terror at what Malcolm Merlyn had had planned for Starling City, the place that Barry and Henry now lived. Iris was crying softly as she heard what Merlyn had had planned, what he had done in pursuit of his madness, and Joe held her close, feeling her tears soak his shirt. All around them, there were muttered oaths and questions about what the hell was wrong with the Starling City Police Department, that they hadn’t _seen_ some sign of this before, but Joe was focused almost entirely on comforting his daughter.

A small part of him acknowledged that Oliver Queen wasn’t crazy and that he had been doing everything he could to fight for Starling City, but Joe couldn’t help but question why Queen hadn’t just turned state’s evidence against Merlyn, testified against him to the F.B.I. once they took over the investigation into the _Queen’s Gambit_. There was something else to all of this, Joe’s gut was telling him, and he wasn’t sure he was going to like the answer.

That didn’t mean he was completely wrong about Queen, though. Queen was still a murderer and a vigilante, and he needed to face justice for what he had done in pursuit of what he considered to be justice.

Iris, meanwhile, was crying softly, thinking of Barry’s passionate defense of Oliver Queen at Thanksgiving, and thinking of how Barry would feel vindicated now. Whatever hope she and her father might’ve had at getting Barry to see their point of view (and maybe consider moving back to the not-so-crazy suburbs of Central City) was gone.

**_*DC*_ **

Emiko Adachi stared in disbelief at the television screen as the news reported the depth of Malcolm Merlyn’s depravity while praising the heroism of Oliver Queen. Her brother had just permanently secured his status as a legend and a folk hero, striking a blow against tyranny and oppression by taking down Starling City’s godfather of crime and a, by all accounts, demented terrorist. She shuddered as she remembered that Merlyn had tried to arrange a meeting with her. If she had taken that meeting, she would have been called into question, and the Ninth Circle wouldn’t have allowed even the barest hint of her telling their secrets. Both she and her mother would have been killed to ensure Emiko’s silence.

But what was she to do now? It was almost a certainty that if Oliver ever learned about the Ninth Circle and her connection to them that he would force a choice upon her: their relationship, her status as a Queen, or the Ninth Circle, which had given her a family when she desperately wanted one, and she had no idea who she would choose if that day ever came. For now, though, Emiko would publicly support her brother and his heroics, because that was the best way to hide her conflicting feelings on the matter. No one would look twice at someone praising the hero who had saved Starling City from a massive terrorist attack, and if there was one thing Dante had taught her, it was to blend in.

**_*DC*_ **

Kazumi Adachi had been watching a daytime soap, indulging in a guilty passion as it were, when the news broke. She had first been irritated since the show wouldn’t pause for this kind of thing, but by the end of the news report, her passion for daytime soaps was a distant memory as she looked around the new high-rise apartment she and Emiko had leased with their new bank accounts. Up until a few weeks ago, she had been living in the Glades, the very district that Malcolm Merlyn had slowly been criminalizing just so he could avoid feelings of guilt when he laid waste to it. Kazumi was terrified because she remembered Malcolm Merlyn, remembered that he had been Robert Queen’s best friend. To think that that man had been planning all of this. What if he had known about her and Emiko? Would he have used them against Robert the same as he had apparently used Moira Queen’s love for her daughter against her to force her into working with him in his insane plan?

Kazumi shuddered at the thought of Merlyn targeting her daughter and was once more pleased to know that Oliver Queen was the Green Arrow. Robert’s son was not his father and had stood against the terrorist who threatened an entire city district. Kazumi hoped that this act would earn Oliver some goodwill, even see him pardoned. He deserved happiness after everything he had done for this city and for her and her daughter.

**_*DC*_ **

Frank and Helena Bertinelli sat watching the news, Nick Salvati standing nearby. All three were stunned into silence. Frank had known _someone_ was at the head of Tempest, but for it to be Malcolm Merlyn of all people? He felt disgusted that a man like that had become the godfather of all crime in Starling City. But Merlyn was exposed now, and on the run, leaving the position of godfather of all crime up for the taking, and Frank had every intention that _he_ would fill that position.

Helena was watching the news with a strange sensation in her chest. She hadn’t been sure _what_ she thought of Oliver Queen. He had been a Bratva captain but betrayed them rather than let her be taken by them. With the knowledge that he was Green Arrow, it had meant he was willing to put his life on the line for her and had fought against the Bratva. She knew it was stupid, but she was beginning to develop a sense of kinship with Queen through osmosis. Both of them had ended up in crime families out of happenstance, and both had wanted out. Queen had managed to free himself from the Bratva, betraying the head of the whole organization and capturing him in the process, and that had inspired Helena. She had recently taken up archery, to her father’s bemusement, though she had found she preferred the crossbow to a normal bow. There was something _elegant_ about the crossbow. One day, she hoped to use her newfound passion to get justice for Michael and bring her father down the way Oliver Queen had brought down Anatoli Knyasev. She even had a name in mind to call herself, because she wanted to dismantle everything her father held dear: the Huntress.

**_*DC*_ **

Dinah Lance was with her colleagues, staring at the screen in horror. She _knew_ Malcolm; he had been someone she considered a _friend_ , even. To know that he held such darkness inside of him, that _he_ had been the one responsible for the years of darkness Sara had endured after the sinking of the _Queen’s Gambit_ … Dinah was not someone who would consider herself a vengeful woman, but she hoped it was Oliver or her ex-husband who got to Malcolm first, because she doubted either of them would give him a chance to weasel out of this. But she was also terrified, because both of her daughters’ jobs were in the Glades, and they could be in danger if Merlyn had the ability to unleash his attack.

**_*DC*_ **

Clark Kent had his arms full as Lois pressed against him as they stared at the television in horror at what was unfolding in Starling City along with the rest of the reporters who worked on this floor of the _Daily Planet_. Clark was thinking furiously, wondering if Tommy Merlyn had known about his father’s plans and tried to discredit his best friend by exposing him as Green Arrow. If he had, that was a truly reprehensible act on the part of someone who called Oliver Queen his friend. On the other hand, Oliver had proven Clark’s assertion at that charity gala, and his and Lois’ ‘fluff piece’ as some disparagingly called it regarding Oliver’s outing as Green Arrow, true. Oliver Queen was a hero who had stood against an evil that most people would be afraid to admit existed.

Lois Lane was shocked and had sought Clark’s comfort instinctively. She had never met Malcolm Merlyn, only his son, Tommy. She had met Oliver Queen, as well, and she had to admit she had been surprised as anyone when Tommy Merlyn announced the morning after the gala that Oliver Queen was the Green Arrow. She had internally been amusing herself from time to time with the man’s attempt to claim his story wasn’t that interesting. If anything, the revelation Oliver Queen was the Green Arrow had made his story all the more enviable for whichever reporter landed that juicy story, and Lois was going to campaign as hard as she could to be the one who got it, no matter what she had to do. She also knew that before too long, Perry would be coming out of his office and ordering her and Clark to Starling City A.S.A.P.

Sure enough, Perry White came out of the office. “Kent, Lane!” he barked.

“Already on our way, Chief,” Clark said, and he and Lois left the bullpen without another word.

“Take Olsen with you! I want _the_ photos when Merlyn is taken down!” Jimmy Olsen jumped and followed Clark and Lois towards the elevators, looking both excited and terrified to be going on a field assignment to a city that had been targeted by a domestic terrorist.

The last thing they heard was Perry’s exclamation of, “Great Caesar’s Ghost!”

**_*DC*_ **

Amanda Waller smiled coolly as the report from Channel 52 News aired. They were in the endgame now, and soon, she would have the proof that Oliver had promised that she could use to get Task Force X approved. Lyla Michaels stood nearby, watching the report in surprise and fear. The latter emotion was, no doubt, regarding John Diggle, her ex-husband who had previously worked with Oliver.

**_*DC*_ **

John Diggle and his current employer, Ted Kord, were staring at the television in disbelief and horror, and Diggle felt himself swallow hard. _That_ was what Oliver Queen had been seeking to prevent all of this time, why he had chosen to work with A.R.G.U.S. and deepen his ties to Amanda Waller? For the first time, Diggle could understand why Oliver had done so. This was a threat beyond the scope of a single vigilante; this was a case of domestic terrorism and it had _needed_ a federal presence, which it had secretly with A.R.G.U.S. and openly with the F.B.I. investigation into Tempest, which was now bearing fruit as all but Merlyn and potentially one last conspirator were rounded up. Diggle hoped that Queen received a pardon after this, because he deserved _something_ for doing all of this, even if it was just not being forced to serve Waller and the mysterious Task Force X that he had mentioned during that meeting two months ago.

**_*DC*_ **

Bruce Wayne listened intently to the news report, committing it to memory. So, Queen had finally exposed the threat he faced, the ‘godfather’ of all crime in Starling City, a domestic terrorist with a cabal backing him. Bruce had to admit that Queen had surpassed his expectations and succeeded in his mission, something that he was to be commended for, whatever else happened. Bruce wondered if this would lead to Queen being pardoned for his actions as Green Arrow, as a show of gratitude. It wouldn’t let Queen operate again as Green Arrow, granted, but he had exposed the corruption he so ardently fought against. He could rest now, leave it to the police and F.B.I. to clean everything up.

**_*DC*_ **

A single brown eye watched the report intently, the right eye socket an empty hole which the mercenary fingered gingerly. The man who had taken his eye, who had chosen Shado to die and betrayed their family for that bitch, Sara Lance, was being praised as a _hero_. It was galling, but Slade Wilson comforted himself in the knowledge that once his assessment of everything going on in Starling City was done, once he knew which avenues of attack were viable, Queen would face justice for what he had done, and he would _break_ Starling City’s hero before them, shatter the false hope he gave them the way Queen had shattered his hope for a better future when he chose the Lance girl over Shado, who he pretended to love.

There was still a great deal to do before his vengeance could be unleashed upon Oliver Queen and the city he so dearly loved, but vengeance would come, and when it did, everyone and everything that Oliver Queen held dear would _burn_.

**_*DC*_ **

Lex Luthor mused over the impact Oliver Queen was having on the world, and this most recent revelation about Oliver’s godfather, Malcolm Merlyn, merely ensured that Oliver would have a place among humanity’s greatest heroes for exposing such a dire threat. But what else would this cause to happen? How many others might become inspired by Oliver Queen’s relentless crusade against crime and corruption? Lex had several not-so-legal dealings with Morgan Edge, Metropolis’ criminal kingpin, that he certainly wouldn’t want exposed by some do-gooder who decided to follow in Oliver’s footsteps. This bore some consideration.

**_*DC*_ **

Quentin Lance was staring at the television screen in horror with the rest of the precinct, finally realizing why there had been a complete lack of an F.B.I. presence for the past few hours. They had been busy trying to track down Merlyn. Quentin felt sick to his stomach as he realized Merlyn had been the one to sink the _Queen’s Gambit_. Merlyn was the reason that he had lost his daughter for five long years, while Queen was the reason that he had her back.

Queen, who had been working tirelessly against Merlyn even as the S.C.P.D. hunted him. Queen, who had taken down every member of Merlyn’s cabal while Quentin pursued him. Queen, who had likely handed the F.B.I. the evidence they needed to finally pressure a member of Tempest into folding while the S.C.P.D. got caught with their pants down around their ankles.

This was going to be one hell of a black mark against the department, especially if Nudocerdo kept up his ridiculous ‘kill on sight’ order that, as of this moment, Quentin doubted anyone but dirty cops that had been _working_ for Merlyn would follow.

Quentin’s stomach churned as he thought of his daughters, both of whom worked in the Glades, and he felt the need to find them and hold them close. He slipped away, planning to head to C.N.R.I. first. When he got in his car and heard the call over the radio for an ambulance at 52 Wells Street, C.N.R.I., his stomach plummeted, and he hit the lights. **_*2*_**

**_*DC*_ **

Sara Lance and her customers were watching the news in shock. Sara finally found her voice. “Because of what we just heard, whatever you’re holding is yours,” she said loudly over the whispers. “Go home, hold your families close. I know I’m going to.” There was a mass exodus from the shop, the people holding onto the bouquets they had had in hand, and Sara locked up the shop behind them before heading back to the ‘stock room’, where the elevator down to the Quiver was located. Sara opened the secret elevator and got onboard, practically bouncing with nerves. Ollie and Henry needed to know what had just gone down. Less than a minute later, the elevator doors opened, and she stepped out, finding Oliver already awake with his bow out and pointing at the elevator while Henry cowered behind the computers, a handgun quaking in his hand. Sara flinched at the sight of the gun, and Henry put it away after seeing who it was.

“Sara?” Oliver asked cautiously. “What’s going on?”

“What’s going on is the F.B.I. are hunting Merlyn, and Channel 52 News just aired a special report detailing everything they know about him and his plans,” Sara said, and Henry whooped in delight. She grinned at Henry’s enthusiasm. “I figured you’d want to know all your hard work has finally paid off. Merlyn’s on the run.”

“That may not be a good thing,” Oliver said. “If he’s on the run, it means he has nothing to lose, and men with nothing to lose are the most dangerous kind.” Sara felt a chill at that. “Henry, I want eyes at C.N.R.I. and Berlanti Prep now. I need to see Thea and Laurel, know that they’re safe.”

“On it,” Henry said, setting the gun gingerly on the desk beside him and beginning to bring up the data. “Ah, trying to find Thea, but so far nothing. And C.N.R.I.?” Henry tapped a few keys. “We got picture and sound! And… oh, no… boss…” Oliver and Sara practically stormed over to the console and felt their stomachs clench at the sight of a body bag being wheeled out of the room, cops all over. Oliver snatched up his encrypted phone and flipped it open, selecting Laurel’s number and dialing. He watched as someone on the screen started, and leaned down, picking up what he recognized as Laurel’s purse before pulling out both phones. Oliver cut off the call before the other end could be answered.

“Damn it, damn it, damn it,” Sara cursed repeatedly. “Henry, can you rewind, show us what happened?”

“Already on it, Sara,” Henry said. He was comfortable with Sara seeing as she was their ‘cover’ and had thus begun calling her by her first name. Well, that, and it was easier than trying to differentiate which ‘Miss Lance’ he was talking about. Oliver paced the platform while Sara’s fingers dug into the back of the chair. Henry finally called, “Got it!” He put the recording on the screen, and the three of them watched as Tommy Merlyn arrived, seeming distraught, going directly to Laurel. They watched as Laurel told him something that made him stagger, her try to contact Oliver, and then the two of them leaving the director’s office in time to be caught by the mercenaries. They saw Joanna get shot, Laurel and Tommy surrender themselves to the mercs and get dragged off while one of the men from C.N.R.I. tried desperately to keep Joanna alive, ultimately failing.

“ _Merlyn,_ ” Oliver snarled quietly.

**_*DC*_ **

Laurel Lance and Tommy Merlyn were shoved into a cramped ‘cell’, the only word for the room, and the door shut and locked behind them. Tommy grabbed Laurel, pulling her close, and despite her residual anger at Tommy, the terror Laurel was feeling had her holding onto him. They both knew who was going to come through that door soon enough, and both were dreading it. Laurel was dreading it because it would be confirmation of just how much power Merlyn had in Starling City, that he could send mercenaries into C.N.R.I. and have Laurel abducted in broad daylight. Tommy was dreading it because it would the final confirmation that Laurel wasn’t exaggerating, that his father truly was the godfather of all crime in Starling City.

The door to the room opened, and sure enough, Malcolm Merlyn entered, but he didn’t look as pleased as either of them had believed he would. “Tommy, I must say, I was surprised when I was told you forced the issue of coming along,” Malcolm told his son. “I would think after what happened with those kidnappers who took Thea you wouldn’t be so quick to leap into danger. Something we’ll have to discuss when all of this is said and done. Assuming either of us are alive once _he_ gets here.” Malcolm grimaced.

“He?” Tommy asked, confused, but Laurel had an understanding look on her face.

“Ra’s al Ghul,” she said quietly. “You’re afraid of what Ra’s al Ghul is going to do to you.”

“Perceptive, Laurel,” Malcolm replied. “Very perceptive. Yes. Once he realizes that crime and corruption is no longer controlled in Starling, Ra’s will unleash his judgment upon Starling, and he will seek justice from my bloodline according to the code of the League of Assassins. Thea, of course, will be dead soon enough, but I have no desire to see my only son murdered by Ra’s or his daughter.”

“You should have thought of that before hatching your plans, then,” Laurel said, trying not to focus on Malcolm’s assertion that Thea, who she had known all of the girl’s life, would be dead soon. “Something’s happened.”

“ _Oliver_ has happened,” Malcolm suddenly snarled. “He gave one of my last allies to the F.B.I., who got him to talk, and then the rest of those in custody. Tempest has been exposed, and I am now a man with nothing left to lose, hunted by the F.B.I. and the S.C.P.D. But if I am to go out, I’m going to bring Oliver Queen and all those he loves down with me.”

“Dad?” Tommy asked tremulously. “Tempest… it’s just a figment of Ollie’s imagination.”

“No, Tommy, it’s quite real, and I’m the head of it,” Malcolm said almost smugly, and Tommy fell back on the ratty mattress in the room in shock. “You and I will have much to talk about when we leave Starling to its well-deserved fate. But first, it will soon be time to draw Oliver into a final confrontation from which he will not walk away.”

“He’s not going to be that easy to draw into a trap, Merlyn,” Laurel said disgustedly.

“No?” Malcolm asked, smiling coldly. “His lover. His sister. His _son_. A man could not live with himself if he lost all of those that he holds dear.”

“Son?” Laurel asked weakly, shocked for the first time since being thrown in here.

Malcolm’s cold smile broadened. “Oh, so Oliver hasn’t told you, assuming he knows himself. You remember Samantha Clayton, don’t you? It turns out she and Oliver had a rather brief affair seven years ago, which resulted in a son. A boy called William. It’s such a pity that one so young has to die, but as I told Samantha, I’m doing the world a favor, as he will no doubt be as interfering as his father.”

“You’re sick,” Tommy said. “This is a kid we’re talking about, an _innocent kid!_ ” He was horrified at his father’s words.

“No,” Malcolm said. “It’s the son of Oliver Queen, the Green Arrow, my enemy. No one connected to him is innocent. So, I will draw Oliver into a confrontation with Laurel, and William, and Thea. Then I will kill them all in front of him, and once he is broken in spirit, I will end his life.” Malcolm turned and went to the door, where he stopped and turned around. “Enjoy your final hours on Earth, Miss Lance. There is no escaping your justly deserved execution.” He exited the room, leaving a Laurel who was trembling with a mix of emotions, including anger and grief, and a Tommy who had just had his world turned on its axis again. Oliver had been right all along; Tempest existed, and Malcolm Merlyn was at the center of everything _wrong_ with this city. **_*3*_**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter.
> 
> Chapter Notes:
> 
> *1* Alright, so let’s get this out of the way: yes, I decided to create a fictional president rather than go with Obama, who would’ve been in office at the time. But the fact is that, outside of Tommy’s one-off comment and an out-of-nowhere episode of “Legends of Tomorrow”, Obama’s presidency isn’t acknowledged at all, and they even have a WHITE MAN as president during the Dominator Invasion, which would’ve been during Obama’s presidency as well, albeit the final days, which is why I say the Legends episode was out of nowhere. It felt as out of place as the reference to the ‘Trump Wall’ on “Supergirl” by Maggie’s dad, since it didn’t fit with the character of President Marsdin on “Supergirl”. One of the reasons it doesn’t make sense is because Sara says she ‘misses’ Obama in the Legends episode, but Sara would’ve been an assassin, dead, or traveling the world/through time for the entirety of Obama’s presidency. How the FUCK could she miss him if she had no experience with him?
> 
> I am a Democrat. But I also recognize that having a ‘real life’ president in this kind of story is problematic and could cause a lot of unnecessary drama. I always get antsy when I see someone using real life people in stories because it adds a bit too much drama since people will portray real life public figures as they view them, and that is sure to cause conflict, something I try to avoid with my stories. Therefore, I decided on using Allan Trumbull, who is played by Morgan Freeman in the “Fallen” series of films (Olympus/London/Angel), the same actor who played Lucius Fox in the Dark Knight trilogy. In this way, I at least stay true to Tommy’s reference to a black president in the pilot episode of “Arrow”.
> 
> *2* I considered having more perspectives on the fallout from this from the likes of Barbara Gordon, Dick Grayson, etc., but decided I had plenty. Plus, I knew what I wanted the chapter to end with and anymore might’ve made this chapter longer than necessary. “52 Wells St.” was the original title of “Sacrifice”.
> 
> *3* One hell of a way for Tommy and Laurel to find out the major secrets they didn’t know. And now, only hours are left before the final confrontation between the Dark Archer and Green Arrow.


	59. Showdown

As evening descended on Starling City, televisions remained tuned to Channel 52 News for constant updates. As such, when the channel received a live stream of five people tied to chairs, one of them obviously a child, all with bags over their heads and the menacing form of what could only be the Dark Archer standing nearby, the studio immediately contacted the F.B.I. and the police before they rushed to air it alongside their ongoing story. Inside the Quiver, Oliver, Sara, and Henry were startled at the appearance of five people, having expected only three, and Oliver let out a, “Please, no,” of denial at the sight of the child. How could Merlyn have learned about William? Oliver had been so _careful_ to avoid contact with his son, barely checking in on him during the mob war to remind himself what he was fighting for.

“I’m so sorry, boss,” Henry said. “I’m already working on tracing the signal, and I’m sure the cops are doing the same.”

“Ollie, what is it?” Sara asked concernedly. “Who are the other two? The boy?”

“His name is William,” Oliver managed. “He’s my son.” Sara rocked back in shock. “The other person has to be his mother, Samantha.”

“Samantha? As in Samantha Clayton?” Sara clarified. Oliver nodded shortly. “But you were with Laurel at the time…” she trailed off. “You cheated on her before me?”

“Not intentionally,” Oliver said. “We were both drunk, dumb kids at a sorority-fraternity mixer; Laurel was playing sober sister, and I… I let myself get lost in the moment. But she told me she lost the baby. I didn’t know about William until Dad told me on the life raft. He had found out that Mom paid her off to lie to me.” The lie slipped from his lips effortlessly, having practiced it more than once.

On the screen, the Dark Archer suddenly spoke. “ ** _By now, the Green Arrow should be aware of this transmission,_** ” he said. “ ** _For the past two months, Oliver Queen has laid waste to my plans, has brought_ hope _to the criminal vermin that should be eradicated from the face of the planet. He is no hero, but a champion of the very criminality and corruption he claims to be fighting, for it is the criminals of the Glades he champions, those who stood by and did nothing when my wife was murdered. Oliver Queen has taken the chance for a better future for Starling City from me, and so I will take those which he loves most from him._** ” The Dark Archer moved back and removed the bags from the boy’s head and two women, revealing William, Laurel, and Thea. “ ** _I speak now directly to you, Oliver. You will surrender yourself to my authority within the hour, or you will watch your son, your lover, and your sister_ die _._** ” The Dark Archer fell silent, but the livestream remained.

“He _wants_ us to find him,” Oliver said softly. “He wants to kill them right in front of me.”

“You’re not going in alone,” Sara said grimly. “I moved my stuff here for a reason. I may not be one hundred percent yet, but I’m strong enough for this, even if it’s just getting Laurel and the others out of there. I’m guessing Tommy’s the last one. Do you think Merlyn would kill his own son?”

“I honestly can’t say what Merlyn would do anymore,” Oliver admitted, moving towards the mannequin holding his uniform. “Let’s suit up. We need to be ready to go as soon as Henry has a location.”

**_*DC*_ **

The police and the F.B.I., along with a corps of press, arrived outside of the warehouse where the hostages were being held by the Dark Archer. The F.B.I. sent in a bomb unit to check the doors to the warehouse and found both had been wired with explosives. The police and F.B.I. were trying to figure out another entry point when someone from the press corps shouted and pointed towards another nearby warehouse. Standing atop the warehouse was the Green Arrow, but he wasn’t alone. There was a woman in black standing with him, wearing what appeared to be a blonde wig and wielding a bo staff.

As the press corps and law enforcement watched, the Green Arrow fired a zipline arrow across the chasm between the warehouse he and his mysterious ally stood upon and the one where the hostages were being held. He ziplined across using his bow, and once he was across the woman did the same using her bo staff. The Green Arrow fired a second zipline arrow down from the roof, earning some talk from reporters that the Green Arrow appeared to be laying the groundwork for the hostages to be evacuated, and then he and the woman in black vanished from sight, though the news and police helicopters reported back to the ground that the two had entered the warehouse through the rooftop exit.

**_*DC*_ **

The Green Arrow and the Canary moved through the warehouse slowly, Green Arrow with an arrow nocked and ready to fire while the Canary handled her bo staff with deadly intent. The lives of people they loved were on the line; this was no time for a struggle of morality. The two finally entered the main room of the warehouse, where they found the Dark Archer waiting with his hostages. The Dark Archer, seeing them, pulled a device from his belt and clicked it, presumably ending the livestream. What he was unaware of was that Henry had already hijacked the livestream and kept it going, allowing the people to see the coming confrontation. “Merlyn,” Green Arrow greeted coldly. “Still hiding behind masks?”

“ ** _You and your companion are hardly ones to talk, Oliver,_** ” the Dark Archer replied. “ ** _Do you realize what you’ve done? I brought_ order _to the chaos of this city. When Ra’s al Ghul realizes how deep the corruption runs, how widespread crime is, do you really think he will leave Starling City standing? Instead of the few thousand who would have died in the Undertaking, all of them criminals, millions will die at the hands of the League of Assassins. That is what you have done, Oliver. You have condemned the city you so love to burn._** ”

“No, I haven’t,” Green Arrow replied. “I have already spoken with Ra’s. I defeat you, I show marked improvement in fighting the crime and corruption, and he will leave Starling City be. The only person in this room who is deluded is you, Malcolm.” Green Arrow suddenly fired the arrow he had nocked, and a moment later, the flashbang device went off. The Dark Archer howled in pain, giving a wild swing towards the tied-up William, but the Green Arrow was already there, tackling him. “Canary, get them out of here, now!”

“ _Come on,_ ” the Canary said hurriedly, untying every one of the hostages and pulling the bags from their heads. “ _Stay close together and follow me._ ” The Canary led the frightened but relieved hostages out of the room, back towards the rooftop access and away from the dueling archers.

Back in the main room of the warehouse, The Green Arrow wasn’t letting up in his attacks, delivering a strike to the Dark Archer’s knee. The older man was driven to one knee, but he proved he wasn’t much of an honorable fighter when he drove his fist into the Green Arrow’s groin, earning a pained grunt from the Emerald Archer. The Dark Archer recovered from the blow to his knee and rallied, delivering quick strikes to Green Arrow’s chest and jaw while the younger archer was recovering from the groin strike. “ ** _You are championing the very scum that are poisoning this city, Oliver, and so you will share their fate!_** ” he snarled.

“They are not scum; they are _people_!” Green Arrow snarled right back. “They deserve the chance to live, to make something of themselves without you and your _Tempest_ controlling their lives!” He delivered a bow-cut to the Dark Archer’s chin.

“ ** _Calling what they have ‘lives’ is a mockery of the word, Queen,_** ” the Dark Archer snapped as he rallied and delivered a right cross to the Green Arrow’s jaw. Green Arrow stumbled back. “ ** _Even before Tempest, the Glades were a hive of corruption and despair. All I did was keep that corruption and despair from spreading._** ”

Green Arrow delivered a straight kick to the Dark Archer’s chest, sending the older man stumbling back. “No,” he said. “What you did was betray your wife’s memory by becoming the godfather of all crime in the city. You, you are _everything_ that is wrong with Starling City! But it can come back from what you’ve pushed it to! All the people of this city need is for someone to give them hope again, hope for a better tomorrow!”

“ ** _And you think that person is you, the fabled Emerald Archer?_** ” the Dark Archer laughed sarcastically. “ ** _You can save their lives today. You can fight the crime wave that is coming now that crime is no longer controlled. You can champion these people against me, against Ra’s, against all who seek to restore the balance and end the criminality and corruption they represent. But make no mistake, Oliver Queen. You will never be a hero. You are, and will always be, nothing more than vigilante scum!_** ” As he had spoken, the Dark Archer had delivered a series of blows to Green Arrow’s ribs, and the younger archer hissed when the Dark Archer struck the still healing ribs from his encounter with one of the gangs seeking to cash in on the bounty on his head.

“Coming from a genocidal madman with delusions of grandeur, I’ll take that as a compliment,” Green Arrow replied through gritted teeth. He drew a bolt from his flechette and flung it forward, striking the Dark Archer in the calf. The Dark Archer grunted in pain, and the Green Arrow delivered a kick to the leg, driving the bolt further into the muscle, tearing it. The Dark Archer let out a primal howl of fury and tackled Green Arrow, driving him to the ground. He pinned the Emerald Archer to the ground and began raining blows down on the younger man’s face with his own compound bow.

The Green Arrow managed to free his arms and brought his bow up to counter the Dark Archer’s, putting all of his strength behind the shove he gave, forcing the Dark Archer off of him. Green Arrow rolled away and lurched up into a kneeling position, turning and firing a bolo arrow at the Dark Archer, who used his sword to cut the cords as they sprung into being. Green Arrow followed this up with an explosive arrow, which the Dark Archer struck at with his sword, not seeing what it was until it was too late. Just as had happened with the Canary weeks earlier, the resulting explosion threw the Dark Archer off-balance, his sword dropping to the ground, and the Emerald Archer pressed his advantage, firing two bolo arrows, securing the Dark Archer’s arms to his torso and tying his legs together as well. The Dark Archer collapsed to his knees, struggling against his bindings.

Green Arrow picked up the Dark Archer’s sword and then pulled his cowl from his head, exposing the sneering face of Malcolm Merlyn. “Don’t _posture_ , Oliver,” Malcolm sneered. “You’ve proven your resolve more than once. You have a code of honor, a line that you won’t cross. You won’t kill me and sacrifice your precious status as a hero. You and I? We’re going to be doing this for a _long time_ , Oliver, and I will win in the end. You can’t beat me because you lack the conviction to do all that is necessary. And even if you were to kill me, there are thousands more like me waiting in the wings, people who will do whatever it takes to accomplish their goals. Some of those people will be worse than I am. You can’t win, Oliver. It may not be me, but one day, someone will rise up who _will_ kill you, who will burn Starling City to the ground, and in the end, the only one to blame will be _Oliver Queen_.”

“You’re wrong, Malcolm,” Green Arrow said, chest heaving from the exertion of the battle with his godfather. “I said it from day one. I know that there are people in this world who, like me, believe that though life is full of darkness, that darkness can be defeated by the light. _Hope_ is that light, and I believe, no, I _know_ that I will not always be alone in fighting for that better future. There are others in this world who have the _conviction_ to stand as I have, to face the darkness that permeates this world and takes human form in men like you, and those others _will_ rise up, they _will_ stand as champions. So yes, maybe one day, I will die fighting for the cause I believe in. But I will not be alone when that day comes, and those who follow after me will keep the fires of hope burning.” Green Arrow drove the sword into Malcolm’s chest, and blood bubbled out of the man’s mouth as he stared at Green Arrow. “But you’re right about one thing. I’m no hero; I’m a _vigilante_. Which is why I can do this. There are others out there who are better than I am, who will inspire without killing. But fighting for Starling City requires a certain level of tenacity, a certain degree of ruthlessness.” Green Arrow pulled the sword from Merlyn’s chest before activating his comms. “Oversight, kill the feed.”

“ _Feed killed, boss,_ ” Oversight informed him seconds later.

“Goodbye, Malcolm,” Green Arrow said, before cutting off the bastard’s head, which rolled away as the body collapsed. Green Arrow let the sword drop to the ground and turned, returning to the roof. As he appeared at the edge of the roof, he noticed the crowd down below had swelled, and cheers rose up at the sight of him. He smiled despite himself, taking note that the Canary had already left. Tommy was nowhere in sight for some reason, and he hoped nothing had happened to his best friend. He remembered all too well Sara’s admonition that time fought back, and he could imagine someone wanting vengeance on Malcolm for his plans killing Tommy to do so. But Laurel was there, holding onto Thea, as Samantha was holding onto William, all shrouded in blankets and staring up at him.

Green Arrow used the zipline to cross the chasm between buildings again. He could turn himself in now that Merlyn was dealt with, but that would leave the city open to riots and other problems. And on the off-chance he wasn’t pardoned, it would also leave those on the List he hadn’t visited still active, and the ever-present threats of Slade Wilson and Ra’s al Ghul looming. No, he couldn’t turn himself over even with Malcolm dead. Laurel had been right the day she almost sacrificed herself to keep him out of prison. Green Arrow had to endure. He left the cheers behind him, returning to his bike to find the Canary waiting. “It’s over,” Green Arrow told his friend.

“Good,” the Canary, voice modulator turned off, replied. The two got on Green Arrow’s Ducati and peeled away, the sounds of distant cheers still in their ears. **_*1*_**

**_*DC*_ **

**GREEN ARROW DEFEATS DARK ARCHER**

**Oliver Queen Ends Malcolm Merlyn’s Reign of Terror**

That was the headline of the _Daily Planet_ the next day, and the story, written by Lois Lane and Clark Kent, was effusive in the praise of Oliver’s resolution to the threat that Malcolm Merlyn had posed. “Quick and decisive action” they were calling it. The article also revealed that Tommy Merlyn had been questioned extensively as to his potential involvement in Malcolm’s schemes but had been cleared of all charges. The future of Merlyn Global was in the air, though many expected it to collapse under the stigma of having had a C.E.O. exposed as a domestic terrorist.

Those who had supported Oliver Queen since his exposure felt vindicated towards those who had decried him as insane, and the pressure for Oliver Queen to be pardoned for his actions was mounting. It was into this atmosphere that Amanda Waller arrived at the White House for her appointment with the president. She walked briskly through the halls and approached the desk outside of the Oval Office. “Amanda Waller, Director of A.R.G.U.S.,” she said, and was waved in shortly after. The President and Vice President were waiting for her. “Mr. President, Mr. Vice President,” she greeted coolly.

“Director Waller,” President Trumbull said with a nod. “Please, take a seat. I understand you have some information to shed light on the circumstances leading up to yesterday’s events in Starling City.”

“I do,” Waller replied. “Oliver Queen has been an asset of A.R.G.U.S., on and off, for the past three years and approached me two months ago with information that there was a home-grown terrorist network at work in Starling City. He asked for A.R.G.U.S. support in bringing this network to justice. I granted it. Mr. Queen is an exemplary individual and a cunning warrior, as has been proven by his actions as the Green Arrow, and it is with his example in mind that I would like to broach the topic of putting together a special team, a task force if you will, of individuals with special skills and tactics to be sent into hotspots across the globe in order to secure American interests.”

Trumbull leaned back in his seat. “Interesting, Director Waller,” he said. “Because I have been going over recently declassified files detailing the actions of the Justice Society of America. But something tells me that the team you’re talking about wouldn’t be as… inspiring as they were, as Mr. Queen has become.”

“They would be shadows, striking from darkness to serve the common good,” Waller replied.

“Which, I admit, is something this country needs,” Trumbull said. “I will grant permission to form this task force under your supervision, Director Waller, under one condition: I want a meeting with Mr. Queen. You claim he is one of your assets, that he has been working at your directive. It can be done over a video link if necessary, but I have a proposal for him.”

“I will arrange it,” Waller said, coolly satisfied. Task Force X was approved. Whatever else sprung from this endeavor didn’t matter to her, so long as it didn’t interfere with her designs.

**_*DC*_ **

Oliver Queen stood at parade rest in front of the vid-link at A.R.G.U.S.’ main operations center, waiting to be connected to the president. He had been informed that Trumbull had something special that he wanted to discuss with Oliver, though Waller hadn’t said whether she knew what that reason was or not. She was distracted, assembling the first variation of Task Force X, which included, among others, Digger Harkness and Floyd Lawton. Oliver straightened as the vid-link was established and President Trumbull appeared on the screen. “Mr. President,” he said respectfully.

“Mr. Queen,” Trumbull said. “Thank you for meeting with me, even though I would have preferred to do this in person so that I could shake your hand in thanks for all that you have done. I will get to the point, Mr. Queen. I intend to pardon you regardless of the outcome of this discussion, but there is something I believe we can do for each other. Have you ever heard of the Justice Society of America?”

“Only vague rumors,” Oliver replied, which was technically true. All he had heard was what Sara had told him in the aftermath of the Dominator invasion when he had asked about the woman who had the same totem as Mari. “Some kind of government-sponsored team of vigilantes, if I recall.”

“A team of heroes,” Trumbull corrected. “They were not heroes as some would call them, because they killed more than once on their missions for this country against the Nazis and, later, the Russians, before they were disbanded. But they were heroes, nonetheless, operating as a special team against forces that threatened this country while also working towards their own separate missions. The country has managed without the Justice Society in the decades since, but it is obvious upon reading the reports that the J.S.A. was integral in defending the people of this country. You have proven that the world is changing, Mr. Queen, and your confrontation with Malcolm Merlyn, televised as it was, has opened our eyes to very real and grave threats that exist.

“Because of your exemplary example of heroism and your willingness to do all that was necessary to bring down Malcolm Merlyn and your obvious intentions to keep fighting as the Green Arrow, I am offering you the chance to form a new team of heroes, like the Justice Society, to work with the government against these larger threats that you and Merlyn referenced in your confrontation. You will have final say on _all_ who join, and you will be given great leeway in operational security and methodology. You will also be given the authority to continue to act as you have in Starling City, with authorization to pursue your endeavors.”

Oliver was silent as he digested what he had just been offered. He was going to be pardoned regardless of what he did, but here was a chance to continue to act as Green Arrow without having to worry about going on the run again, which would allow him to keep his promise to Laurel. More importantly, it would give him direct access to the heroes that would rise up, as he knew they would, and allow him to mold them into the force that they needed to be in order to fight the Anti-Monitor in the Crisis on Infinite Earths. “I accept your offer, Mr. President,” Oliver finally said. “Though I won’t be calling this group the Justice Society.”

“What _will_ you be calling it?” Trumbull asked curiously.

Oliver smiled. **_*2*_**

**_*DC*_ **

Oliver entered the Quiver to find Henry waiting for him. “So, how was the meeting with the president?” Henry asked.

“Good,” Oliver said with a nod. “More than good, actually. I’m free, and I’ve been authorized to form a team of heroes, and act as Green Arrow whenever I’m not working against a threat like the League of Assassins could become. But there’s something else.”

“What?” Henry asked quizzically. In return Oliver handed him an envelope. “What’s this?” he asked.

“Your pardon,” Oliver said. “I let the president know how integral you were to my work and that you deserved this as much as I did. I hope you’ll continue to work with me, Henry, but you don’t have to anymore. You’re free of Waller. You’re a free man. You can go be with your little girl if you want.” **_*3*_**

**_*DC*_ **

It was an unfamiliar door that he was staring at, but on the other side waited the woman he loved. Oliver Queen reached forward and knocked three times in rapid succession. He waited, feeling as though time was taking forever to pass, as he heard the sound of soft footsteps approaching the door, and then it was opening, and she was standing there. Her green eyes widened at the sight of him. “Ollie, what are you doing here? The police-” Laurel Lance started.

Oliver moved forward and took her in his arms. “The police can’t touch me anymore,” he said, planting a kiss on her forehead. “I’ve been pardoned by the president, and I’ve been authorized to continue to act as Green Arrow while I assemble a team of heroes to work with the government against the threats that are out there that are beyond what the military and intelligence services can handle. I’m home free, Laurel. I told you I would find a way to make it all work, and I have.”

“You’re really free?” Laurel asked, her lower lip trembling as her hands reached up, exploring Oliver’s face.

“Yes, Laurel,” Oliver said. “I’m free.” With a sob, Laurel clung to him, and he guided her into her apartment, the door closing behind them. He gave a soft smile and a nod to Sara, who nodded back and then went to her room to give the reunited lovers the privacy they deserved. “All this time, I’ve held onto the memory of you,” Oliver said softly, kissing the side of her neck. “I kept myself focused on what I wanted, to stop Merlyn and get back to you. It’s over, Laurel. Merlyn is gone, and I’m free.”

Laurel clasped his head in both her hands, guiding it downward as they fell onto the couch. “No more waiting, Ollie,” she said. “I’m ready.” Oliver nodded, and the two worked at each other’s clothes, ready to finally share their passion with one another. **_*4*_**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter.
> 
> One more official chapter and then the afterword to go.
> 
> Chapter Notes:
> 
> *1* I hope everyone enjoyed the final battle between Oliver and Merlyn. I enjoyed writing it, especially with the verbal sparring the two were doing since it was being broadcast on the livestream that Henry hijacked.
> 
> *2* Once I decided to have Oliver be exposed as Green Arrow, I decided to have him be pardoned but with the proposal of forming a new team of heroes modeled after the J.S.A. This story has certainly grown beyond the simple time travel story I imagined it as.
> 
> *3* Oliver keeps his promises.
> 
> *4* I’m still uncomfortable writing smut, so I hope this is enough of an indication of what Laurel and Ollie got up to.


	60. Aftermath

Oliver Queen stood at the podium on the front steps outside of Queen Consolidated, having just transferred ownership of the company and custodianship of the Queen fortune back to himself from Laurel. Ned Foster had insisted he take on the position of C.E.O. again, and Oliver had called for a press conference to address any and all questions the people might have about what things were going to be like moving forward. He knew that people would have questions about what was going to happen, especially as the White House had issued a press release about Oliver’s pardon and his being commissioned to form a special response team of unique individuals. Oliver noted Susan Williams was here, as were Clark and Lois. He had finally reconciled (thanks in part to the fact the pair had done nothing but praise him in their articles) that this was _not_ the Lois who had judged him so quickly and that she didn’t deserve his aloofness or pettiness.

Oliver tapped the microphone, drawing the reporters’ attention. “Thank you all for coming out today,” Oliver said. “I know many of you have questions, and I will do my best to answer those. Before I call for questions, I would like to make a statement to address some lingering issues as well as what is going to happen as we move forward into this strange new world.

“As you know, I have been pardoned by President Trumbull. But I have also been tasked with assembling a team of specialists, or heroes if you wish to use the term, to meet the kinds of threats hinted at during my confrontation with Malcolm Merlyn. I was once told that there are people in this world who deal only in extremes, and it is naïve to believe that anything except extreme measures will stop them. Merlyn was such a person, but he is not alone. There are others who seek to rule this world through tyranny and fear, those who seek to kill without abandon and oppress the people. I don’t know how long it will take to recruit the team the president has asked me to assemble, but I know I will find the people I seek. They are out there, even now, and I know that deep down they already know who they are. I will find them, or they will find me. In the end, this team will be assembled.

“As a result of my new position, I am not only able to continue to act as the Green Arrow while serving the people of Starling City but have every intention of doing so. I know this will be a period of adjustment, especially for the Starling City Police Department. But I will not abandon this city to the inevitable crime wave. Because as horrible as Merlyn was, he was correct in one thing: he kept crime contained to the Glades. The city is about to face a crime wave like it hasn’t seen in years, and I have every intention of being on the front lines and standing for the people of this city. Green Arrow isn’t going anywhere. Now, any questions?” Instantly, hands raised. Oliver pointed at the duo from the _Daily Planet_. “Mr. Kent, Miss Lane, one question apiece, if you please.”

Clark and Lois seemed to communicate silently, and then Lois asked the first question. “Mr. Queen, how do you see things moving forward in Starling City between you and the S.C.P.D.?”

“I have to have hope that with my new position, they will recognize the good that I am trying to do and work with me,” Oliver said. “But even if they don’t, I am authorized to seek justice in my new position, and any arrests I make in the course of my duties as Green Arrow are just as valid as those made by members of the S.C.P.D. The days where they are able to let these criminals off the hook with a slap on the wrist because a vigilante captured them are over, and Commissioner Nudocerdo is going to have to learn to live with the fact that I am here to stay.” Lois nodded as she took notes on the topic.

Clark’s question was next, and it was one that Oliver had admittedly wrestled with his feeling on for weeks. “Mr. Queen, how do you feel about the fact that Thomas Merlyn exposed you as Green Arrow?”

Oliver was silent for a moment, gathering his thoughts. Laurel, standing beside him, took his hand and squeezed it gently. This moment, of course, was immortalized by the flash of the camera wielded by the photographer accompanying Clark and Lois, Jimmy Olsen. “I have had nothing but time to think about this in the past few weeks,” Oliver finally said. “On the one hand, I understand why Tommy felt he needed to do what he did. He believed, however wrongly, that I was suffering from a break with reality. His actions were not malicious in nature but were in fact the actions of a concerned friend who has, in the past, been like my brother.

“But that doesn’t erase what Tommy did. He gave Green Arrow a name, made him a singular individual for all those who I have taken down or threatened the business pursuits of to focus their rage on. And when they couldn’t get to me, they targeted the ones I loved. The consistent attacks on my sister and my girlfriend are a direct result of Tommy’s actions, and I honestly don’t know how to reconcile the fact he put people we both love in danger because he didn’t think through the consequences of his actions. It will be a long time before I trust Tommy with something of importance, if I ever do.” Oliver fell silent, signaling the end of the conversation, and the reporters raised their hands again. Oliver gestured at Susan Williams.

“Mr. Queen, during your confrontation with Malcolm Merlyn, there was mention of a ‘Ra’s al Ghul’ and a ‘League of Assassins’. Can you elaborate on these issues?”

“I’m afraid I cannot, as the details on the man and the organization are classified,” Oliver replied. “Suffice to say, Ra’s and the League represent a potential threat that I, and the team that I assemble, will be tasked with monitoring.” Susan looked dissatisfied at this but nodded.

The questions continued, some of them utterly ridiculous (“When will you and Miss Lance tie the knot?”) while others were more thoughtful (“How will you choose the members of the team that you’re assembling?”). Oliver answered each question as it came, issuing statements of “no comment” on anything regarding his relationship with Laurel and matters of national security. Finally, the press conference ended, and Oliver retreated back into Queen Consolidated with Laurel at his side. **_*1*_**

**_*DC*_ **

Quentin Lance had watched the news conference at the flower shop run by his youngest daughter, and his expression was troubled as he considered what Oliver had said. Whether he liked it or not, the world was changing, and Queen now had the same authority to arrest people that Quentin had. Hell, his authority superseded Quentin’s because it came from the federal level. “What’s wrong, Daddy?” Sara asked. They were alone in the shop at the moment, everyone having stayed home or huddled into coffee shops to watch the Green Arrow’s first public speech since being pardoned.

“I don’t know how to feel about this,” Quentin admitted. “What’s the use of being a cop if there’s gonna be people like Queen, or you, running around now?” Quentin noticed how Sara didn’t even flinch at the implication that he knew she had been the woman in black the night Oliver defeated Merlyn. “Justice is gonna change because of this. The _law_ is gonna change because of this. And I don’t know if there’s gonna be room for a cop like me in this new world order.”

“The world is always gonna need good cops, Dad,” Sara said. “You know how corrupt the S.C.P.D. is.” Quentin acknowledged this with a grudging nod. “The city needs all the honest cops it can get, people who can be there for the people when Oliver can’t be. You still have a place, Dad. You still have a role in the world.”

“Thanks, sweetheart,” Quentin said. “Are you- Will you be going out again?”

“I don’t know,” Sara admitted. “I did what I did because someone needed to get the hostages out while Ollie fought Merlyn. But I don’t think I’m ready to do what Ollie is doing. Maybe one day. But for now, I just want to spend time with my family.” She smiled at Quentin, who smiled back. That was something he could get behind. **_*2*_**

Quentin considered the next question he had. “Do you know anything about this Ra’s character and this League Williams asked about?”

“I’m afraid I do,” Sara said. “Do you remember when I said that what Ollie was doing was going to save countless lives?” Quentin nodded. “I wasn’t talking about the Undertaking. The place I was before I came home? It was the League.” Quentin felt his stomach jolt painfully because he recalled all too clearly that the organization was called the _League of Assassins_. “Oliver freed me from the League, and he begged Ra’s to spare Starling. Ra’s granted the clemency Oliver sought, _if_ he stopped Merlyn and showed a marked improvement. Oliver is still going to need to do the latter, especially with that potential crime wave on the way. Ollie wasn’t just saving the thousands Merlyn targeted for death; he was saving every person living in Starling City.”

Quentin was silent as he contemplated what Sara had told him. It was something he would have to mull over for quite some time to come.

**_*DC*_ **

Damien Darhk had watched the goings-on in Starling City with great interest. As a mystical convergence in it’s own right, Starling City was essential to his plans to reshape the world in his own image. The appearance of a modern-day Robin Hood who was taking the fight to the criminal and the corrupt had, naturally, attracted Damien’s attention seeing as it could potentially impact his ability to assume control over the city when the time came. The confrontation between Oliver Queen and Malcolm Merlyn, televised as it was, had been startling, especially when Merlyn foolishly exposed the League of Assassins and named Damien’s old friend on live television. Merlyn must have become truly unhinged to not consider the ramifications of his actions.

But the exposure of the League of Assassins and Ra’s al Ghul, limited though it might have been to being named alone, had it’s own value. The League would be forced to work even deeper in the shadows now. Every government in the world that didn’t already have a file on them would now be starting such a file, asking the questions that the reporter had: Who is Ra’s al Ghul? What is the League of Assassins?

In the meantime, Damien would have to monitor the events in Starling City closely, because he had the funny feeling that Oliver Queen was going to be a detriment to his plans.

**_*DC*_ **

Slade Wilson’s right hand was gripped tightly into a fist, his thumb running across the side of his pointer finger reflexively as he considered everything that had been going on. Oliver Queen’s fight with Malcolm Merlyn had exposed the League of Assassins and Ra’s al Ghul. Slade had heard of both organizations, of course; you couldn’t avoid it after making the name he had for himself these past two months as he began working to amass a fearsome reputation. He had heard some organizations were calling him Deathstroke, occasionally with the added moniker of ‘the Terminator’ due to his unstoppable nature. A bit flamboyant, but he had to admit to liking it. But the recent exposure of the League and the impact that would have on the world had to be taken into account, as did what had happened to and for Oliver as a result of his very public takedown of Malcolm Merlyn.

Slade had initially planned to take Oliver’s company from him, kill his family, kill the woman he loved, and finally burn Starling City to the ground. Oliver had proven a shrewd businessman for someone who had never been to business school, acquiring the majority shares in his company through both inheritance and buying up any stock people sold off. When he had been exposed as Green Arrow, he had signed his ownership of Queen Consolidated and custodianship of his family fortune to his girlfriend, the ever-desirous Laurel Lance, who he had pined over for months on the island before distracting himself with Shado. His mother was dead, his sister no longer in his custody from the sounds of it, weakening the bonds he had with his family. By all accounts, he had abandoned his own sister in order to play hero.

Worse, Oliver’s public recognition as a _hero_ gave him an authority equal to law enforcement, which meant any _overt_ actions taken could result in Slade’s own exposure. Combined with the fact that Oliver had been tasked with assembling a team of _heroes_ and it left a sour taste in one’s mouth. His initial plans to punish Oliver for Shado’s death and betraying their family for Sara Lance were no longer viable, which meant he would have to consider other avenues of vengeance.

“Your reckoning is delayed, Oliver,” Slade mused to himself, “but it will come. I am going to take everything you care about away from you. Destroy those who choose to follow you. Corrupt those you love. And once you have lost everyone and everything you value, I will drive an arrow _through your eye_.”

**_*DC*_ **

Oliver felt nervous. Laurel was with him, but he felt this was going to be one nasty confrontation, because Samantha Clayton was sure to be pissed as hell that her and William had been kidnapped because of who Oliver was and what he had become. Not to mention he was about to meet his son for the first time in the new timeline, and William was not only much younger than the last time but had also been through an equally traumatic experience at a much younger age. Oliver flexed his hands, wishing the palms weren’t so sweaty, and then knocked on the hotel room door. A moment later, the door opened, and Samantha was standing on the other side. For a moment, she just stared hard at Oliver, and then she stepped aside, allowing them to enter.

William was sitting on the floor, banging two toys together, and Oliver’s heart ached as he saw the look on his son’s face. It was haunted, the way it had been after Lian Yu. “He’s been quiet for the most part,” Samantha said quietly. “But he keeps asking for you, Oliver.” Oliver nodded and approached his son, kneeling down in front of him.

“Hello, William,” Oliver said.

William paused in playing with his toys and set them down, head raising to look at his father. “Is what the bad man said true?” he asked, his high voice so different to the familiar tones of the pre-teen and successful adult Oliver had known him as in the future. “Are you really my dad?”

“I don’t have the right to be called that,” Oliver said quietly. “A dad is there for his children every time they need him. I purposely stayed away from you and your mother, hoping that my enemies would never find out about you. I barely qualify as a father.”

“What happens now?” William asked.

“Because of what I do, what I’ve been tasked with doing, there are going to be people who will always try and find you and your mother,” Oliver said. “The government is going to hide you. We won’t see each other again, William. I hope one day you find someone that you can call ‘Dad’. But it can’t be me.”

William wiped at his eyes. “Okay,” he sniffed. He returned to playing with his toys.

Oliver stood and returned to where Samantha and Laurel had been standing. “I am so sorry for this, Samantha,” Oliver said quietly. “I truly believed I had kept Malcolm from finding out about you by keeping my distance.”

“It wasn’t you,” Samantha said after a moment, and Oliver blinked. “He said he looked into your mother after she died and found out all of her secrets.”

“Oh,” Oliver said. “Well, nonetheless, I’m sorry that my being Green Arrow put you and William into this position. The people who are going to hide you are good at their jobs, Samantha.”

“I hope so,” Samantha said. “I don’t want to see this happen again, Oliver. I don’t want my son traumatized before he’s a teenager by being repeatedly kidnapped and threatened with death.”

“He won’t be,” Oliver promised. “You’ll both be safe.”

“What are our new names going to be?” Samantha asked.

“Hawke,” Oliver replied. “Sandra and Connor Hawke.” He had mused briefly over the fact that these were the very same names as Ben Turner’s son and his mother before dismissing it as mere coincidence. There was no chance that William would become like that Connor. Time couldn’t be _that_ cruel. **_*3*_**

**_*DC*_ **

A week passed, and Oliver spent his time patrolling the city or catching up for lost time with Laurel, taking her out to breakfast, lunch, and dinner every day and spending his nights at her apartment even though he once more had the loft at his disposal. While they had had a conversation about Samantha and William, it had been handled as the mature adults that they were, not the dumb kids they had been seven years ago, and it had eventually settled.

But one night, as he was patrolling, the comms activated. “Shit, boss, we got a problem!” Oversight said over the comms, his voice no longer modulated as they now had authorization to do their work.

“What is it?” Green Arrow asked.

“Some guys in black just grabbed Thea and Tommy out of the Merlyn Manor,” came the reply, and Green Arrow felt his stomach twist as he remembered a tenet of the League’s code. Since Malcolm was dead, justice would have to be wrought from his bloodline. Green Arrow mentally cursed himself for not remembering that before delivering the killing blow. “What are you gonna do, boss? Who are these guys?”

“The League of Assassins,” Green Arrow replied. “I’ll be off-comms for a while. Don’t try to track my signal. They won’t take kindly to it.” With that, he cut his comms and began the trek through the city to the staging ground where the League had likely taken Tommy and Thea. He suspected that this was going to be one of those rare occasions where Ra’s left Nanda Parbat, especially since the League had been exposed by Merlyn’s comments during the confrontation at the warehouse.

**_*DC*_ **

Tommy Merlyn was forced to his knees, a bag over his head, hands gripping his arms tightly. He could hear Thea sobbing beside him. The bags were removed from their heads and Tommy blinked rapidly, adjusting to the low lighting provided only by fire. What the hell was this? He focused on the man in ceremonial robes standing in front of him. “Who are you?” he demanded to know. “What the hell is this?”

A woman strode forward and backhanded him across the mouth, jarring his senses. “You will keep a civil tongue when addressing the Demon’s Head, or you will lose it,” she threatened in a velvety voice.

“I am Ra’s al Ghul, boy,” the man in robes said as the woman retreated to his side at a gesture. “Your father betrayed the code of conduct he swore to abide by, and so we have come to exact justice on his bloodline.”

“Not if I have anything to say about it!” came a familiar voice, and Green Arrow dropped into the midst of the black-clad warriors, who tensed. Green Arrow rose from his crouch and came to stand just behind the kneeling Tommy and Thea. “I satisfied your code, Ra’s,” Green Arrow said coldly. “Merlyn is dead, his Undertaking destroyed, his cabal of terrorists broken and in custody. Only one remains and I will hunt him down. Tommy and Thea are innocents. They had no idea of their father’s plans until he revealed his true nature.”

“Ignorance does not mean innocence, Mr. Queen,” Ra’s said. “Yes, you stopped Malcolm Merlyn, but not before he exposed the League to the world. We are shadows, intended to be whispered about if at all mentioned. But now we are known. The world is asking questions about Ra’s al Ghul and the League of Assassins. Retribution must be meted out.”

“Malcolm Merlyn only became the threat that he was _because_ of the League,” Green Arrow pointed out. “Without your teachings, without your training of him, none of this would have come to be. Even you must recognize that.”

Ra’s stared at Green Arrow silently, considering his words. “You are less respectful than you were previously, but I will presume that is because of your personal connection to this matter,” Ra’s finally said. “But you are correct. The League failed in its training of Malcolm Merlyn. Killing his children would further compound this sin, not absolve it. They will be taken from here and trained in our ways. They will be what their father was meant to be, or they will die.”

Green Arrow looked down at his best friend and his sister. He moved slightly to the right, putting his hands on Thea’s shoulders. “By the code of the League, I can claim right of blood for my sister,” he said. “I can claim her as my student, teach her my ways, and direct her to aid the world as I do in penance for her father’s crimes. Would you deny me this right, Ra’s al Ghul?”

“I would not begrudge you the right, but can you do as you claim?” Ra’s asked.

“I already have one student,” Green Arrow revealed. “I can train another.”

“Very well,” Ra’s said. “Thea Merlyn is yours to train and guide, Oliver Queen. But Thomas Merlyn will be coming with us.”

“What?” Tommy asked. “No! I’m not going anywhere! You can’t force me to join your crazy cult!” He tried to stand, but Al-Owal drove his fist into Tommy’s stomach, driving the breath from his body. Tommy wheezed, “You can’t do this! Ollie, you gotta stop them! Please! I’m like your brother!”

“You are, Tommy, but you aren’t actually related to me by blood,” Oliver replied. “I can’t do the same for you that I’ve done for Thea. I’m sorry.” His voice cracked at the last as he pulled Thea to her feet. “Do what they say, Tommy. Prove that you’re not like your father, serve them, and maybe one day, you can earn your freedom the way Sara did.”

“That day may be long in the coming, Mr. Queen,” Ra’s said, gesturing. The League retreated, dragging a screaming Tommy, who glared back at Oliver in betrayal before being dragged out of sight.

“What just happened?” Thea asked tearfully. “Where did they take Tommy?”

“Someplace that rivals the island as hell on Earth,” Green Arrow said grimly. “I’m sorry, Speedy. It was all I could do to save you. I wish I could have saved him. We might have our problems, but it still hurt, that I couldn’t do anything to save him.”

“Do I have to train under you?” Thea asked.

“If we don’t, the League will take you, Thea, and they won’t be pleasant. The League is not a good place for women,” Green Arrow said, thinking of just how much he had learned about the League and why there were so few women in comparison to Talia’s League of Shadows.

“It couldn’t be that bad,” Thea scoffed.

“Speedy, every woman who is a part of the League aside from Nyssa al Ghul is expected to service the men of the League whenever they ask for it,” Green Arrow said, and Thea’s eyes widened. “You wouldn’t have had a choice. They would have taken you, raped you, and expected you to still do what they say and train to fight in their style.”

“O-Oh,” Thea said faintly.

“Come on, let’s get out of here,” Green Arrow said. “Looks like you’ll have to move in with me again.”

Brother and sister left the League stronghold. **_*4*_**

**_*DC*_ **

Clark Kent felt the Kryptonian battle-suit that had been designed at the Fortress of Solitude for him as it rested beneath his dress shirt. Rather than the typical black and silver common on Krypton for male members of the House of El, this battle-suit was blue in color, with a red and yellow emblem depicting the sigil of the House of El on his chest. It came with a red cape to signify the fact that he was meant to be an ambassador of sorts for the denizens of the stars. He had been practicing what he would say if and when he debuted, but none of it felt right. He realized that canned responses weren’t going to cut it after the last press conference with Oliver Queen. The thing that made people believe in Queen was that he spoke from the heart, and Clark had realized that that was what he needed to do.

Lois, of course, knew what he was planning and worried about him. It was great having the woman he loved so accepting of his decision to step out of the shadows and into the light. He was _not_ thrilled with the superhero name she had picked out for him, though. He thought Superman sounded a little ostentatious, a little egotistical. But Lois was adamant that this was the name to go with, and he never could say no to her when she got so enthusiastic about something. Now all that was left was choosing the time and place to show the world who he truly was.

“Clark!” Lois came rushing towards him from across the bullpen. “I just heard, there’s a plane coming towards Metropolis with a blown engine and it’s not going to make the airport. It’ll land right in the middle of the city.” She lowered her voice. “This is what you’ve been waiting for. Now be the Superman I know that you can be.”

Clark swallowed. He hadn’t expected the time to come so quickly. But he made his way towards the roof of the _Daily Planet_ , where he quickly shed his clothes and stood in full Superman regalia, staring off into the distance and finding the plane, which was trailing thick black smoke.

Superman rose up into the air slowly and then shot towards the plane. First things first: stop the flames from taking another engine. He flew up alongside the plane, right above the flickering flames, and used his Freeze Breath to blow out the fire. With that done, he flew beneath the plane and placed his hands on either side, gripping the steel beneath his hands and supporting the plane as he moved it above the Metropolis skyline, moving towards he airport. His super-hearing picked up amazed exclamations from people who could see him, curiosity of why the plane had stopped descending, and wonder from the pilots as they flew towards the airport.

Superman brought the plane in for a landing, setting it gently on the ground on a disused runway. He moved to the door and ripped it off, floating inside and landing on the carpeted floor as he entered first class. “Is everyone all right? Does anyone need medical attention?” he asked urgently. If they did, he could get them to Metropolis General quicker than any ambulance could arrive.

“We’re fine,” squeaked the stewardess. “Not sure about people back in coach.”

“I’ll check on them, then,” Superman said, walking down the aisle towards the curtain dividing first class from coach. He pushed the curtains aside and repeated his question.

“I’m pinned,” said a young man painfully. Superman moved to examine the situation. The seat in front of the young man, which had been empty, had been launched back when the plane buckled and pinned the young man’s legs between it and his own seat. Superman used his X-ray vision to make sure there were no serious injuries.

“Well, looks like all it is you being pinned, no broken bones, though you’ll have one heck of a bruise,” Superman said.

“How do you know my legs aren’t broken?” the man asked.

“X-Ray Vision,” Superman said, tapping the side of his head. “Now, let’s get you out of there.” He put one hand on the back of the seat and pulled upward, returning it to its natural position, and the young man breathed a sigh of relief. “What’s your name?”

“Winn, Winn Schott,” the young man replied. “Who are you?”

Here it was. The moment of truth. “Superman,” the hero replied.

“Well, seeing as you apparently caught the plane and were strong enough to lift it over the city, I’d say you’re entitled to the name,” Winn said. “Thank you, Superman.”

“You’re welcome,” Superman said. “And I do hope that this incident hasn’t put anyone off flying. Statistically speaking, it’s still the safest way to travel.” He left the cabin with a smile on his face, went to the door, and shot off back towards the _Planet_. That had felt good, using his powers to _help_ people. Now he knew that he had chosen to do the right thing.

**_*DC*_ **

Oliver Queen watched the footage that a sky camera attached to a building in downtown Metropolis had caught, the familiar form of Superman guiding the plane towards the airport. He smiled. “Welcome to the game, Mr. Kent,” he said. **_*5*_**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter.
> 
> Chapter Notes:
> 
> *1* Writing the press is always so much fun… (sarcasm) I hope this press conference seemed realistic within the world that’s been built.
> 
> *2* Quentin, especially Season 1 Quentin, would seriously struggle with a world in which a vigilante now has the authority to make an arrest. Meanwhile, Sara is still going to take her time, but eventually, she’ll fight in the light of day. Just not as the Canary.
> 
> *3* This is just me correcting the stupidity of the “Arrow” showrunners and writers for making random children, blood or adopted, for an OC into Connor Hawke.
> 
> *4* As I’ve said in other stories, the League was implied to be highly patriarchal throughout Season 2, with Nyssa being the only woman with any real power in the League. My head-canon is that she protected Sara from the worst excesses, but Sara was always aware of what could happen if Nyssa got bored with her.
> 
> *5* I wanted to end the story on a high note. I hope everyone enjoyed Superman’s debut on Earth-1.


	61. Afterword

Writing this story has been one hell of a journey for me as a writer. I started this story roughly back in December, after the third episode of _Crisis on Infinite Earths_ had aired. Technically, the first six chapters had already been written, but I was constantly modifying them to accommodate revelations from canon. I had originally planned on waiting until _Crisis_ had finished airing and then do this story from wherever Oliver finally died for good in a world where all the Earths were combined into one, but then I heard something about _Crisis_ that pissed me off or I got too antsy waiting for the final episodes, and I ended up deciding to begin the story after Oliver’s initial death against the Shadow Demons in the first hour of _Crisis_. When I first began the story, it was going to be pretty simple story, with the first major change being when Oliver took down Malcolm. Well, we all saw how that turned out.

I realized I had a unique opportunity in writing this story. I could choose to do the simple path, or I could have the Butterfly Effect mean something. In the end, I chose the latter, because as much as I enjoy the stories where everything goes the hero’s way, I wanted to explore what could happen in a world where the hero’s actions truly had consequences on the world around them and they were forced to adapt to the changing world around them. But never did I imagine that I would change the world of _Arrow_ as drastically as I have, to the point that so many would die that lived for a good long while in the show. People keep calling me the George R.R. Martin of the Arrowverse and I suppose I can see the reason for the appellation.

The hardest scenes to write were when there was no _good_ answer, where Oliver was forced to choose between the lesser of two evils, like when he found himself in the quandary of living in a world with a Laurel Lance who was alive, but being forced to acknowledge that by pursuing a relationship with Laurel, he was erasing the daughter he had loved and bonded with from existence. These kinds of morally ambiguous choices were a lot harder to write than some people might think, but I felt I made the best choice possible for the story that I wanted to tell. Oliver still mourns the loss of Mia and his friends from the now-erased timeline, but he has managed to bring some of them back into his life, and this has helped salve his conscience some.

I’ve really enjoyed writing Laurel’s journey throughout this story, taking her from a woman with limited self-defense skills to the woman who could take on the Huntsman and win. I put her through the ringer, and ran her ragged, but in the end, it all came together and put her on the path towards becoming the Black Canary, and in a way that is different from how that path came about in canon.

Writing Tommy’s storyline evolution was a different challenge, as I had to ask myself, “How do I take this guy who turned into a hero without a mask in canon and make him into a potential bad guy?” And I realized that the most tragic way for this to happen, the way that would tug at Oliver’s heartstrings in the future to the point that he wouldn’t be able to kill the next Dark Archer, was if Tommy’s actions were done not out of spite or jealousy, but out of love and concern. Because that would truly be tragic for everything Tommy had done out of concern and love to backfire and send him on a path towards becoming the very thing he has always struggled against: his father.

Thea’s storyline evolution was likewise interesting to explore since I had to find a way to take her from spoiled drug addict party girl to someone who is going to train to become a hero. As it is, her becoming a hero will not be something she pursues enthusiastically as happened on the show, but because she has no choice but to do this or face life within the League of Assassins.

Probably one of the most interesting storyline evolutions in this story was writing Malcolm’s slow descent as the Green Arrow picked apart his plans little by little before going in for the kill and striking directly at Tempest. Writing Malcolm as being so unhinged in these final few chapters was really enjoyable even if it was also scary as hell trying to get into the mindset of the character as he complete loses his shit.

There were a few surprises all along the way. For one, while I had inklings Oliver might be exposed as far back as “Guardian Angel”, I didn’t think it would happen the way it did, or that we would go through an “Emerald Outlaw” story arc where Oliver pursued justice while being pursued by criminals and cops alike. During this arc, I tried to capture a semblance towards Season 1 of _The Punisher_ , attempting to evoke a vibe of Frank and Micro during moments like the Thanksgiving scene between Oliver and Henry.

Another surprise was the degree of importance that an OC, Darius Trimble, came to have. Originally, I intended for him to be the disapproving superior while _Alex_ served as Oliver’s contact within the F.B.I., but as the story progressed, the relationship between Oliver and Trimble flourished and I came to enjoy writing it. So, I have a minor amount of appreciation for why the showrunners and writers of _Arrow_ enjoyed writing Felicity, who was essentially an OC. But their sin was making that OC into the most important character on the show, even above the main character himself. I hope I haven’t descended into such madness with how I portrayed Trimble in this story.

Finally, as I mentioned back in “Charity Gala”, I want to thank the members of the Lauriver discord server for their help in brainstorming some of the events of this story. I particularly want to thank Nyame, Kylia, Lyco, Ray_Writes, Okoriwadsworth, and The_White_Wolf for their encouragement and willingness to bounce ideas back and forth between.

I have already been working hard on the sequel, which is titled _The Age of Heroes_ and will be much more of an ensemble story than _Rise of the Emerald Archer_ has been. Initially, I wanted to begin posting it soon after finishing posting this story, but I've come to realize I need to take a break from this storyline, and I need to be more steeped in DC Lore to do the sequel justice. 

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [The Legend of the Green Arrow](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26045725) by [ArlyssTolero](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArlyssTolero/pseuds/ArlyssTolero), [Nyame](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nyame/pseuds/Nyame)




End file.
